


Haikyuu! One Shots

by Nocturnal_Salamander7891



Series: Haikyuu! One Shots [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Anniversary, Anticipation, Anxiety, Bisexual Male Character, Blue Balls, Breast Fucking, Breathplay, Car Sex, Christmas Party, Depression, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fluff, Halloween Costumes, Heartache, Hot Springs & Onsen, Infidelity, Intercrural Sex, Large Cock, Light BDSM, Lingerie, Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, One Shot Collection, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Phone Sex, Piercings, Porn With Plot, Possibly Unrequited Love, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Roughness, Sawamura Daichi's Thighs, Semi-Public Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Substance Abuse, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virginity, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:28:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 125,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26478739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nocturnal_Salamander7891/pseuds/Nocturnal_Salamander7891
Summary: Long time reader, first time poster.A bunch of Haikyuu! one shots to practice tense and characterisation.Playing it a little fast and loose with the term one shot tbh.It's also my first attempt at writing fiction.Hopefully the more I do, the better they'll get.Punctuation and paragraphs are hard.I'll add tags as I go.Please be gentle with me.Also everyone has been aged up appropriately so all are 18+
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Reader, Azumane Asahi/Reader, Bokuto Koutarou/Reader, Futakuchi Kenji/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Kyoutani Kentarou/Reader, Matsukawa Issei/Reader, Nishinoya Yuu/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Reader/Various, Sawamura Daichi/Reader, Tanaka Ryuunosuke/Reader, Terushima Yuuji/Reader, Tsukishima Kei/Reader, Ukai Keishin/Reader
Series: Haikyuu! One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924945
Comments: 176
Kudos: 1321





	1. Uses - Terushima Yuuji

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for all the kudos.  
> Open to any suggestions or requests in the comments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terushima makes your bad day considerably better.

You're laying on the roof outside of your bedroom window overlooking the back garden, smoking a joint and watching the the last of the sunlight disappear over the horizon, trying to shake off your shitty day.

You're lost in your own misery when you hear your bedroom door slide open, you sit up with a start, concealing the joint behind your body and trying in vain to waft away any lingering smoke as a familiar smiling face pops into view.

“Aren't you cold?”, his face disappears again before his leg swings over the windowsill and Terushima Yuuji climbs out of the window to take up a seat next to you.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You admonish before automatically passing him the joint, he takes it easily, inhaling deeply before responding.

“It's not my fault you don't read your messages,” he exhales smoothly, a plume of smoke disappearing into the swiftly darkening sky, “I warned you I was on the way.”

You remember your phone, purposely discarded on your bed while you were changing into your baggiest tank top and shorts so you could sulk in comfort. “Fair enough.”.

He takes another hit before passing it back, side eyeing your appearance, “Should I take it your little meet up didn't go well, then?”

You give him a flat look that he proceeds to blow smoke into until you wave your hand in front of your face and turn away, annoyed. “Dick.”, you mutter, but he pays you no mind.

You're going to have to tell him at some point so you decide to just power through. “No, as a matter of fact, it didn't.”, he turns to face you properly but you find you can't meet his eye, something like shame makes your cheeks start to warm. “He's met someone else, he says I couldn't possibly understand that college is different and he needs to be free to live his new life and find out who he really is blah blah blah...” 

You put on a brave tone but he knows how hurt you must be, how anxious you've been for the last couple of months while your boyfriend's attentions had run hot and cold. Yuuji had even been there the day you'd been found sobbing behind the gym after some more than incriminating photos had appeared on his social page.

You heave a big sigh, “...so that's that.”, you say it with more conviction that you feel. More softly you add, “Two fucking years. It was only New Years when he said that he wanted us to be together forever but in reality he didn't even last a single semester.”

You hear him click his tongue in annoyance, “The guy's an idiot.”, Yuuji states simply, gesturing for you to pass the joint back to him. He pauses before it reaches his lips, “Your last?”, he holds it up, questioningly. 

“Nah,”, you shake your head and reach for your rolling tin, “go ahead.” He gives you a grunt in, what you assume is, thanks. He puffs on it thoughtfully, watching your quick fingers work as you roll another. 

Once it's lit, you return to your original reclined position. You're both quiet for a bit, silently smoking and looking out over the moonlit garden. It's comfortable and you find yourself relaxing into your high, as your mind starts to wander, a thought occurs to you.

“Hey, didn't you have a match tonight?”. You turn your head to face him as he gives a nonchalant shrug, you know that means yes. “What are you doing here then?”, there's more than a little accusation in your tone.

He pointedly doesn't look at you, his attitude dismissive, “It's just a practice game, it's not the end of the world.”

“Yuuji!” 

“What?” He snaps defensively, “I tried getting a hold of you and you weren't answering, I got worried, alright? Like I said it's just a practice match, it'll be fine.”

The guilt weighs on you, you really hadn't meant to ignore him, but when you'd gotten home all you'd wanted was to be as far away from people as you physically could be. You decide to swallow your pride, “I'm sorry, it's my fault I should have...” 

He cuts you off before you can finish, discarding the finished joint and moving to lay down beside you, hands folded behind his head to use as a pillow. “It's fine.” you open your mouth to speak but his tone is firm, “Honestly.” You swallow down any arguments you have as he casually changes subjects. “Maaaan this is good stuff.”, his voice is cheerful and his trademark smile is back in place as he stares up at the few visible stars.

You let out a sigh and decide to join him in his stargazing. It's funny, you think, that this patch of roof has somehow become your safe haven against the stress everything else seems to bring into your life. Everything except, surprisingly, Terushima Yuuji.

When you'd first met him you would've happily declared him one of the worst people you'd ever met, dripping with overconfidence, with annoyingly high energy levels and a desperate need to show off, he had been almost the exact opposite of you. 

You'd always prided yourself on being generally calmer and quieter, rarely peaking or dipping into any overly emotional outbursts, especially in front of others. This had made it all the more embarrassing when he'd caught you crying over your boyfriend's infidelity behind the school gym of all places. He'd been unexpectedly sweet about it though, he'd simply hugged you and waited for you to calm yourself, asking for no more details than you offered. He'd waited with you until you felt presentable and then walked you home, both of you forgoing the rest of your lessons to come back here and do exactly what you were doing now.

Thinking about it now you realise he's probably come to be the most reliable person in your life. Once, that fact would've seemed utterly depressing, but if you were being honest, it was actually kind of comforting. Right now you feel more at ease than you have in months. Yes, you're still sad, but the stress and anxiety of not knowing for months had been exhausting and you're honestly glad to be free from it. 

Your eyes drift over to him, and you watch him absentmindedly using his teeth to fiddle with that tongue piercing of his, you've seen him do it a hundred times but suddenly you're finding it hard to look away.

“Don't you ever worry about it getting caught?” You both start a little as your voice, seemingly uncannily loud, breaks your shared silence. Huh, this really is good stuff.

He looks puzzled for a moment before understanding washes over his features. “Ah, not really?” he says with a shrug, “Once you learn not to chew on things like paperclips it's generally pretty safe.” 

You wince a little when you picture what that must have been like. “You know, when you first said you were getting it done, I would've bet that it wouldn't have lasted the month.” you say ruefully, “It was so impulsive.”

He smiles lop-sidedly at you and you feel yourself wanting to automatically smile back. He has a good smile.

“Well, you could've easily been right,” he concedes, “but then it turned out to be pretty useful so I decided it was worth keeping.”

You let out a snort of laughter. “Is that right?” you ask, dubiously. You don't try to keep the doubt out of your expression. “And what use would that be, then?”

He waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively, “Sexy uses.”

You can't help but laugh at him, it's your first genuine laugh in days and his face lights up at the sound of it. 

He rolls onto his side to face you, propping himself up on one elbow. “Seriously!” He tries to sound indignant but his half lidded eyes are shining as the corners of his mouth tug upwards. “It makes kissing me feel really good!”

You laugh again, “Uh-huh, sure it does.”

He nudges your arm playfully, “Hey don't knock it til you've tried it, lady.” He sticks his tongue out as he leans towards you and waggles it in a surprising lewd manner. 

You feel your breath hitch as your eyes are drawn to his lips, the glint of the silver stud in the moonlight suddenly feels like the most interesting thing you've ever seen. 

You clear your throat self consciously and force yourself to look away, cheeks burning, as his eyes get alarmingly wide.

“Holy shit,” his voice is breathy, little more than a whisper, “you've never looked me like that before.” He's quiet for a second before speaking, he sounds hesitant but not uninterested. “...you wanna?” 

You're somewhere between wanting to pounce on him and wanting the ground to open up and swallow you whole. You force yourself to look up at him, “Maybe.” you admit quietly, as much to yourself as to him.

His grin becomes impossibly wide as he leans over you, capturing your lips quickly before you can change your mind. The tip of his tongue prising your lips apart as he tentatively coaxes yours to respond in kind. 

It's not so different, you think, your thoughts involuntarily drifting back to your ex, until he runs the metal stud across the roof of your mouth for a moment and the foreignness of the stimulation feels like it sets your nervous system alight.

Your hands instinctively raise to his jaw pulling him closer, he follows willingly, pressing his body flush against your side. He feels good. Your back arches as you press your chest against him, suddenly desperate for more contact, but instead he pulls away from you and the loss of connection is palpable.

He gazes down at you, even in the poor lighting his face is obviously flushed and you can't hide that you're breathing heavily. You share a long stare in silence, afraid that if you speak you'll break whatever this is, when right now all you want is more.

You lift your face to his, pressing a light kiss to his lips, and instead of pulling away again, he follows eagerly, pushing his tongue deep into your mouth. His hand moves across your waist and his fingertips brush against some exposed skin just above your hip and your whole body shudders. 

You can't quite swallow down the moan it elicits and you hear him grunt in response as his hips jerk once against your side and you become extremely aware of his already hardening length. 

You feel his hand slowly slip under your tank top, he's giving you plenty of time to say no, but you don't because your body is on fire and you're not sure you've ever needed anything more than you need this right now. 

When he reaches your breast and finds you braless, nipples already hard, he moans into your mouth in a way that makes your thighs clench together as want and need pulses through you.

He breaks away from you, leaving you panting into the cold air, as he kisses and nips his way along your jaw and down your neck, taking the opportunity to shift his weight onto his knees as he positions himself above you, a knee either side of your leg. He looks up at you as he starts to push your top up, you nod once and it's all the permission he needs.

Your body tingles with anticipation and you can't help but gasp as he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks hard, before moving to do the same to the other, the sensation of your wet skin being exposed to the frigid night air adding to the ever-increasing ache in your groin.

He's content to take his time here, slowly grinding himself against your thigh as he palms one breast lazily while focusing his attention on the other, trailing languid circles around your nipple with the little metal stud before drawing it into his mouth and sucking firmly, occasionally releasing you just to flick the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue. 

It's too much but it's not enough.

He looks up at you while he works, the way your skin has flushed, the heaviness of your breathing, that hungry look in your eyes, he thinks to himself that you've never looked better.

“You know the other thing this stud is good for?” He asks between kisses as he peppers them from your chest, down to your stomach and the waistband of your shorts. 

The tips of his fingers grip the elastic, questioning, and you lift your hips in response, helping him slide them off, they come away easily as he drops them behind him carelessly, unable to tear his eyes away from your exposed body underneath him as he returns to kneel between your legs.

He audibly swallows before giving you his most winning smile, as he leans down you hear him practically purring, “You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this.”, before he buries his face into you.

The effect is immediate and you have to bite down on the back of your hand to quiet yourself. His arm snakes around your leg as he settles himself into a firm but slow pace, one hand under your backside, positioning you to his preferred angle, the other then reaching up to massage your breast as you fight the urge to grind against his face.

He's good at this, because of course he is. You reach down and bury your fingers into his bleached hair. You can't help yourself as you moan, “God that feels good.” You could swear you feel him smile before he dials up his efforts, speed and pressure increasing as your hips start to buck up to meet him. 

Before you know it the cold metal of the stud brushes up against your clit just so and you feel it tip you over the edge. “Yuuji, there, there...” is all you manage to get out before your orgasm rolls through you, hands clamped over your own mouth in fear the neighbours will hear you come undone. 

He holds your hips in place as your muscles spasm and twitch. His tongue slows but doesn't stop until the sensitivity is too much and you have to pull yourself away from him. 

You're left panting in the night air, exposed and uncaring as you bathe in blissful contentment. He chuckles softly as he kisses the inside of your thigh, not so subtly wiping his mouth off on you, you notice, but you feel too good to care much about that right now.

He climbs off of you, returning to his place beside you, looking you over once more as if committing it to memory before pulling your top down for you. He looks at you and raises his eyebrows, “Uses.”, he grins at you when you laugh and kisses you one last time for good measure, because for now, at least, he can.

You can still feel his erection pressing against your hip, you're unused to this kind of one sided attention so you can't help but ask, “What about you?”

He hums thoughtfully before answering, twirling a lock of your hair around his finger, “I'm pretty sure I've got a fully stocked wank bank right now so I'm sure I'll live,” 

Your laugh surprises even you as it bubbles up unexpectedly and you playfully push his shoulder, “You're so gross!”. He offers only a smug wink in response. 

As it grows quiet you feel like you should be alarmed at what's just happened but, when you really think about it, you can't find anything that actually feels wrong. You look him in the eye, your smile fading into something more relaxed. “Do you want to stay the night?”

His expression freezes in place, “For real?”, you nod and his smile in dazzling. “Hell yeah.”

Your feel your chest warm at his eager response. “Lets go in then, I'm fucking freezing.” You say laughing as you can feel your teeth starting to chatter. He gets up and leans down to help you stand, “Pass me my shorts?”, you ask as you gather your things.

He turns to look behind him, “Umm..”, you notice he's looking off the roof and into the garden below, “...oops?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Open to any suggestions or requests in the comments.


	2. Commute - Azumane Asahi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asahi is a big manly ball of adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were curious, yes, the boys ARE going to adore you in every chapter because this is the peak of self indulgence and you deserve to have them make you feel like the queen you are.

After moving to the city two weeks ago, it's finally your first day at your new job, but that also means your first real commute. You'd taken this train last week to time how long it would take and familiarise yourself with the route but you hadn't realised just how busy it would get with rush hour commuters, and, in a futile attempt to stay out of everyone else's way during the latest influx of passengers, you've found yourself boxed in against the partition wall near the doors. 

You're minding your own business as best you can, reading the advertisements and trying to figure out which direction that weird smell is coming from, when you feel something press up firmly against you, you jump a little and turn your head to see a man facing away from you as his hand squeezes your backside. 

Disgust and anxiety roll through you as you try to move further away with no avail, panic starting to build as you're pretty sure he's trying to lift your skirt, when suddenly you feel the crowd shift as maybe the largest man you've ever seen in real life steps between you and your groper, his back so broad that it feels like you've been cast into shadow behind him.

There's a long moment of tension before the doors open and your harasser flees, disappearing into the disembarking crowd. 

Your mystery saviour doesn't move until the doors have closed again, then, seemingly collapsing in on himself, he huffs a relieved sigh, scratching the back of his neck as he turns to you, “That was kinda scary.” he smiles apologetically before starting to lean down towards you to look at you more closely, “Are... are you ok?” He asks tentatively, before taking a self conscious half step away from you, like he was worried that he was invading your personal space.

His timidness makes your mouth twitch as you try not to laugh, you really don't want to offend him after he was kind enough to help you. You give him your warmest smile, “Yeah, I'm ok, thanks to you.” 

You watch as his ears start to turn red and he scratches absently at his goatee, “Oh no.. I mean.. anyone would have...” 

You can't help but interrupt, your voice firm, “But they didn't. So thank you.” 

His stammering trails off, his mouth working silently for a second before he finds his words, “You're welcome.” he says it with a little more confidence, straightening up ever so slightly as he smiles back at you.

You stare at him a second too long, and you're startled out of your reverie when the doors open again. “Oh! This is my stop! Sorry, thank you, bye!” You shoot him another smile as you rush out onto the station. 

He raises his hand absently as the doors start to close, and even though he knows there's no way you could hear him, he can't help but reply, “Bye.” 

The next day you spot him on the same carriage as you, head and shoulders above the people around him, his features seem tense as he scans the crowd. You make your way towards him offering apologies to the annoyed commuters as you pass through them, trying, and occasionally failing, to not step on anyone's toes.

You get to him before he spots you, you reach out and pull on his sleeve to get his attention, unsure how to address him and trying to ignore the cringe that's threatening to break through as you belatedly realise it might come across as child-like. 

He looks down at you and his eyebrows draw together, for a second you're worried you've annoyed him by approaching, “Are you ok?” He eyes the people around you before looking back at you, his face full of concern.

“Oh,” You can't help but feel foolish but you push ahead anyway, “Yes I'm fine, there hasn't been, I mean, no one's...” You feel your cheeks start to redden at the memory, “I just wanted to thank you again, for yesterday I mean.”

All the tension immediately drains from his expression and when he speaks his tone is soothing and warm, “I was worried for a second there.” He offers a bashful sort of smile and you feel your stomach flutter just a little. “You don't need to thank me again, I'm glad I did it.” 

You smile awkwardly at each other for a second before he starts to make small talk, he asks if you get this train every day, you ask about his job, you both talk about being new to the city and how intimidating it can be, and before you know it it's your stop and you have to leave again. 

Once you're on the platform you kick yourself for not getting his name. You can only hope that you'll see him tomorrow.

The next couple of months settle into a routine of work, socialising with colleagues, and occasionally exploring your part of the city. The highlight though, without competition, has been the ten minutes a day where your commute and Azumane Asahi's overlap.

He's warmed up massively, he's so much more at ease than he was the first time you met that you think you'd barely recognise him now. He's unerringly kind, surprisingly funny, and so handsome you could cry. You also can't ignore the way something in your chest flutters every morning when you first lay eyes on him. 

On this particular morning though, he seems nervous and it's starting to rub off on you. Before you can spiral into a panic about what you could've done wrong he takes you by surprise, “Do you.. have any plans for this weekend?” His voice sounds uncertain and he's pointedly not looking directly at you, at first you try to reason that it's just a normal question between friends on a Friday morning, then you notice he's blushing fiercely and your stomach does a flip.

“No!” You can be annoyed with yourself later with how eager you sound, for now you just want him to keep talking, “No plans at all, I'm free as a bird all weekend, wh- why do you ask?” Your attempt at casualness is laughable but you're finding it hard to care right now.

He gives you a shy smile, “Oh, I see.” He goes quiet for a second and it's all you can do not to lean over and shake him until he gives up his next sentence. “Would you.. maybe.. want to get something to eat? With me, that is... it's ok if you don't of course, I just thought maybe...” 

Your phone is already out of your pocket, a new contact screen up and waiting, “Definitely.” You hold it out for him to add his details. He looks genuinely shocked and it's hard not to laugh at his surprise, who in their right mind would ever refuse him? 

“Ok then.” His smile is steadier even as his blush deepens, he takes your phone as you mentally calculate if you have time to go shopping before tomorrow night.

By the time he arrives the next evening you're so nervous you think you might explode. You've checked your appearance about a thousand times in the last hour, you've swung wildly between loving and absolutely hating your choice in sundress, and you're pretty sure you're wearing enough antiperspirant to kill a small animal. 

It all melts away when you swing your front door open and your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, genuinely alarmed with how good he looks with his dress shirt sleeves rolled up and his jacket over one arm.

Apparently the feeling is mutual because for just a second you'd swear he was looking at you like you were food. “Oh wow,” he looks as surprised as you are when it leaves his mouth, he chuckles awkwardly for a second, taking a moment to turn away and cough into his fist before looking back at you, “You look really.... really nice.” 

Your smile is so wide your cheeks sting a little. You knew you loved this dress. You invite him into the genkan as you gather the last of your things into your purse, “Is ramen ok with you? There's a nice little place not far from here, it's a nice night so I thought the walk might be nice?” You hear yourself start to ramble and mentally deride yourself for apparently having nothing but the word 'nice' in your vocabulary. If he notices, he's kind enough not to mention it.

“Ramen sounds great,” He offers you a smile that could melt glaciers as you put on your shoes and you have to remind yourself it's impolite to openly sniff people, even if the person in question does smell absolutely heavenly.

The walk is even more pleasant than you'd thought it would be. His stride is long but he keeps his pace slow so you can stroll together through the winding side streets, it's unceasingly amusing to you the way people automatically move out of his way, even as he's apologising to them for being in their way. It strikes you once again how his appearance and his personality truly are at odds.

When you arrive at the restaurant the aging owner calls you a “lovely couple” and seats you in a private booth, which is both embarrassing and undeniably exciting, it leaves you giddy enough that you order a bottle of sake for the table to go with your food. 

At the end of hour two, the food is long gone and as delicious as it may have been, you can't deny that, right now, you've got eyes for Azumane only. You've both indulged a little heavily in the now nearly empty bottle of sake, leaving you both with a drunk blush and loose lips.

You sink into a comfortable quiet as you nurse your drinks, it occurs to you that the night is probably approaching its end, but before you can get too melancholic about it, he breaks the silence. “I didn't think you'd say yes to this you know,” His voice is deep and rich, and just a little thick with alcohol, “I'm really glad you did.”

“Me too,” Your smile is genuine, “I would never have guessed when we first met that we'd end up here, my hero of justice, treating me to a night out.” You laugh a little as he looks away embarrassed, it's so easy to make him blush, it might be the most adorable thing you've ever seen.

“You know,” He stops for a second like he's weighing a decision before he carries on, “it was purely by chance that I was on the train that day.” He chuckles a little at your confused expression, “I'd been asked to go into work an hour early to cover for a colleague, so I just happened to be on the earlier train when I saw that guy...” His features harden into a scowl for just a second before he looks back up at you and it washes away. 

He reaches out a tentative hand, placing it gently on top of yours, it's the first time he's touched you and you can't deny the immediate reaction that pulses through you, his hand is warm and pleasantly calloused, “Then,” he continues, “for the rest of the day I couldn't shake the worry that he'd be there again the next day, so I took the early train again...” 

Realisation starts to dawn on you, “And the day after that?” you prompt.

He huffs a little embarrassed laugh, “I realised I hadn't gotten your name...” He gives an awkward smile, “Then once I had your name, I didn't really want to stop.” You stare at him wide eyed, that had been two months ago now and he was still taking your train. He gives a half shrug at your unasked question, “It's the best part of my day.”

He's staring down at his hand on yours, smiling softly and stroking the skin on the back of your hand with his thumb. You think your heart might burst. “Come home with me?” The question is out before you can think too much about it, alcohol fuelled bravery flooding your veins. 

He looks at you in surprise before swallowing audibly, “Definitely.” His voice is deep and rough and you feel it settle low in your belly.

The walk back to your apartment is significantly quicker than before and you've barely gotten in the door before you grab him and kiss him like the world is ending. 

He's quick to respond, one hand flitting between the back of your head and your waist as he closes the front door with a little too much force, “Sorry.”, he manages between kisses. You make a noncommittal grunt in response and focus on kicking your shoes off and pulling off his jacket, shedding your own quickly before pulling him towards the bedroom. 

The path to your room feels significantly less familiar while you're kissing him but you can't bring yourself to stop now, careless of what you're bumping into on the way. You feel your hip knock against the sofa as you pass, “Sorry.” he says again, you want to tell him you don't care but that would take too long so you offer up a distracted 'mmhm' instead.

You finally get him to your bedroom, pushing him back until his knees hit your bed and he drops heavily onto your mattress. The kiss now broken, you start undoing his shirt, revealing a heavily muscled chest and a pleasant smattering of chest hair, he's running his large hands up and down the outside of your thighs and you can't wait to feel them on you properly.

As you pull off his shirt, you look down on him with genuine wonder, “How are you so gorgeous?” His face flushes and he immediately looks uncomfortable under your attentions, he starts to stammer out a response but stops when you undo the zip on the side of your dress, slipping it from your shoulders and dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. 

You step back towards him, settling between his legs as you kiss him again. The tension melts out of him and he wraps an arm around your waist, his other hand reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear as he kisses you deeply in return. 

After a minute you place both hands gently on his chest and push, he lays back easily and watches as you undo his trousers, and pull them off, depositing them next to your dress before finally joining on him on the bed, the alcohol in your system making you bold as you straddle his lap, a hand on either side of his face as you bend down to kiss him. He keeps a firm grip on your hips, steadying you on the soft mattress, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin along your hip bones. 

You can feel his excitement as the bulge in his underwear grows, and you can't resist any longer as you roll your hips, gently grinding against him, his moan is deep enough that you would swear you can feel it in the pit of your stomach. 

One of his hands runs up your back and undoes your bra with surprising ease, now just another item to be chucked on the pile. You feel him press his palm between your shoulder blades and can't help but let out a yelp when he sits up unexpectedly, lifting you with ease and dropping you onto your back so he can roll on top of you. 

When he kisses you again you're giggling, “You surprised me.” you admonish lightly as he slips a hand behind your knee and pulls your leg higher, allowing him to press his, now fully hard, erection completely against you and you forget what was so funny. 

You moan appreciatively as he ruts against you, breaking the kiss as you throw your head back, panting heavily, he takes the opportunity to kiss down between your breasts, taking time to nip at the sensitive skin along your ribs. 

He glances up at you briefly and you're struck by how different he looks, his customary bun dishevelled, his pupils blown large with an undeniably hungry look in his eyes, you can't help but stare as the muscles in his arms and shoulders ripple as he pulls you towards the edge of the bed and buries his face between your legs. 

Your hips instinctively buck up, and he pushes back with equal force, allowing you to grind against him as he tongues and sucks at your clothed sex, when the thin material is entirely soaked through he takes two fingers and rubs them up and down either side of your clitoral hood while kissing the inside of your thigh. It feels so good you feel your toes curl.

You blindly reach for your bedside table, fumbling about in the drawer until you find what you're looking for. You slip the condom packet into his free hand, “Please?” 

It's just one word but it's enough. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear he roughly pulls them down. You're thrilled to see he's just as eager as you. 

As he takes off his boxers you catch sight at the sheer size of him, you slip forwards while he's distracted by the condom wrapper and take the swollen head fully into your mouth, the surprise causing him to drop the packet as his knees go weak and he has to brace himself on your shoulders. “Shit.” he exhales. You can't help but want to smile.

You pull away just long enough to run your hand over his saliva soaked head and rub it up and down his length, he thrusts into your touch before gasping as you take him into your mouth again, his grip tightening almost painfully as your head bobs. He brushes your hair to one side, gaining a clear line of sight to watch you work. 

You take as much of him into your throat as possible but it's still barely over half way, his groan his practically a growl as he gently pulls you away from him. “Careful.” he laughs softly. 

You lay back on the bed and hope you look alluring. He briefly looks for the dropped condom packet, before hastily slipping it on and climbing on top of you. He sucks quickly on his fingers before slipping two into you. 

Your moan would be embarrassingly loud if you had any senses left, but all there is is him. He catches your nipple and draws the sensitive bud between his teeth, sucking in time with the fingers thrusting into you. 

When your muscles are completely relaxed he readjusts his hand and lines up a third finger, “Ready?” he asks gently. You nod and he kisses you deeply as his third finger presses into you. You whine a little at the sting but he circles your clit with his thumb as he waits patiently for you to adjust. It doesn't take long before the want overwhelms you and you can't help but rock your hips against him as the pain returns to pleasure. “Good?”, his voice is a deep and husky purr, like caramel coated gravel.

You nod as you look him in the eye, your need powerful, “I'm ready.” 

He kisses you again as he removes himself from you, you immediately miss his presence but he's quick to line himself up against your entrance, easing himself into you, you gasp as he fills you to breaking point. “It's ok,” his voice is soothing. “just relax.” he whispers softly. He kisses you again, tenderly this time, as you wrap your arms around his neck, arching your back and pressing your bare chest against his, changing his angle slightly as he buries the last inch into you. 

You're both still and panting for a second, his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes screwed tight, you wonder what's going through his mind, “Are you ok?”, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He looks down at you and you feel his cock twitch inside you, “I am, thanks to you.” he offers you a lop sided smile and your heart skips a beat.

“I think I love you.” It's out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. You feel yourself turn bright red as horror overtakes you and you suddenly can't bear to look at his shocked expression, utterly convinced you've ruined things. 

It takes you by surprise to hear him laugh, his chest rumbling against yours. He's on your lips before you can say anything else, “I'm glad, I'm so glad.” he starts to thrust, long, deep thrusts that push all the air from your lungs, the stretch is divine, and he's hitting something just right every time he's completely inside you. 

He mutters your name, again and again, against your throat as he picks up speed and it's all you can do to wrap your legs around his waist and take him in. Your moans increase as your pleasure starts to build. 

“Say it again.” 

Your brain is too foggy to understand, “What?”, you question. It's too hard to think straight while he's fucking you.

“Say it again.”

His pace doesn't let up but there's something different in his tone, something needy. Realisation dawns on you. “I love you?” you offer tentatively.

He growls against your chest. “Again.”

“I love you.” 

He puts a hand on one side of your face and makes you look him in the eye. “Again?”

You're shocked to find his eyes are large and glassy, for the first time since you met him he looks incredibly vulnerable. “I love you, Asahi.”, you will the truth of it to get through to him.

He kisses you again, your pleasure finally bubbling over as you come undone in his arms. His pace stutters and falters as your inner walls clamp down tightly on him and he quickly follows your release. He collapses on top of you as you both pant into the silence, his face buried in your hair. 

He turns his face towards you and nuzzles gently against your neck, kissing it once. “I love you.” his voice is quiet but steady, he plants another kiss on your shoulder. “Have since the day I met you.”

You're too surprised to say anything, choosing to stroke his back instead, in no rush for him to pull out of you. 

He lets out a soft huff, “I feel like I'm dreaming.” 

He finally gets brave enough to look at you and is genuinely shocked to find you smiling, you can't help it though. “I guess that's a good reason to do this again then, huh?”

He smiles back at you, “Got another condom?”

You slap his shoulder playfully, “Absolutely not! I need to be able to walk tomorrow.” He gives an embarrassed laugh as he rubs his nose against yours. It's adorable. “Another time?”

He kisses you again. “Anytime. Every time. You name the place and I'm yours.”

You can't help but smile. “I'll hold you to that.”


	3. Tiger - Kyoutani Kentarou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two anti-social peas in a pod.

The first time you noticed his unusual interest in you, you had been in class, staring out of the window as everything else continued around you. At some point your daydream had faded out, leaving only the sensation of being watched. You'd looked around curiously, just to immediately lock eyes with an unfamiliar boy with bleach blond hair sat at the back of the class, staring shamelessly.

You'd started a little, returning to the work in front of you, but the feeling never eased, and every time you chanced a glance, there he was, appearing to have not moved an inch. 

By the time the lesson had ended your mind was abuzz with fight or flight instinct, torn between fleeing for the hallway the second the bell sounded, or marching up to him and asking what the hell is problem was, but when you had looked back he was already gone, seemingly vanishing into thin air.

This had continued, unchanging, for months. He never spoke, his expression never seemed to change from what could only be described as a scowl, and you never saw him anywhere else. 

You'd been kind of freaked out by it the first few weeks, especially when others had started to notice, but no one seemed to know much about him other than his name. He didn't seem to have any friends or anyone he spent time with and, while there were rumours about him, you'd learned long ago to pay no mind to the gossip of bored highschoolers you barely knew. 

So things had continued as they were, and then, when nothing else had happened, it had quickly just become one of those things. In fact he'd slowly come to remind you of the feral cat from last summer that had spent its days sunning itself in your garden, just wanting to be left alone and unapproached, something you could appreciate. 

Then, in the Spring, the student council had told all committee members that they were to attend the Volleyball competition as a part of the cheering squad to show support to the third year club members in their final push for the national championship. 

This had annoyed you no end for two reasons, one, because you had chosen the student council over a regular club because you would take administrative work over team-bonding exercises any day of the week, and two, because this was clearly more about the new President's obsession with the volleyball captain, Oikawa Tooru, than anything else.

At the end of the meeting, as you were gathering your things, she'd flounced her way over, smiling at you with too many teeth. “You will be joining us, won't you?” You'd fought off the urge to roll your eyes at her forced friendliness, instead pinning what you hoped was a congenial smile on your face as she continued, “It's just I've been reviewing the records and it seems like you have the lowest attendance rate to council events than anyone else here...” You got the gist of it, buck up or get out, the new Prez had something to prove and disinterested members were now a problem to be noted. Fine. 

So that was how you'd found yourself lined up like ducks, surrounded by a flock of girls who all screamed incoherently whenever Oikawa even so much as glanced up at the stand, while you'd spent the whole day quietly cursing your entire existence. 

Until their match against Karasuno.

When Kyoutani had stepped onto the court to warm up you'd had a hard time believing what you were seeing. One of the girls sat behind you had tapped you on the shoulder pointing him out, “Isn't that the staring guy?” You'd nodded your head absently as you slid forward in your seat, folding your arms on top of the bannister and resting your chin on them, suddenly painfully curious at what he was going to do when the match began.

You had not been disappointed. 

From the second he entered the match it felt like he changed the atmosphere of the whole building. He was explosive and powerful to a fault, and you couldn't take your eyes off of him, the rest of the match becoming no more than a disinteresting blur. Every time he moved you found yourself holding your breath, unable to guess what he'd do next. The first time you'd seen him smile after hitting the ball, it stirred something unfamiliar in you. He was exciting.

Even when they'd lost and everyone else was busy being sad for the third years, including a loudly bawling President, you'd only had eyes for Kyoutani. When the team had given their bow of thanks to the stand, his eyes had found yours, and while you couldn't be sure, you would've sworn for just a split second that he looked pleased to see you. 

After that, you'd started to stare back. Holding his gaze for longer and longer before looking away. You'd also started attending more matches. Both of you existing purely in each others orbits, never actually making contact. He became a curious thing that was never too far from your thoughts.

And this weird little game had continued unerringly since then, and now it was year 3 and the leaving ceremony was fast approaching and something was going to have to change if you were ever going to get any closure on this. 

Halfway through your second week of daily council meetings running late into the evening, you're making your way through the deserted hallways, stopping only by the shoe lockers on the way out. 

“I do hope you'll manage to find room for us in your busy schedule this time.” You can't help but mutter in annoyance as the President's words echo around your head again. Her patronising tone, sickly sweet and a little too loud, as she made a point of inviting you, in front of every one else, to an end of year party at her house. 

The way she'd stressed the word 'busy' had made you want to force-feed her the piece of paper you were holding, she knew full well you weren't busy and that you just couldn't stand to be around them, but you'd both been doing this dance for more than a year now so you'd chosen, once again, to feign ignorance. Two can play at this game.

You'd forced a smile of your own, raising a hand in apology as you closed one eye, “Sorry!” you giggled light-heartedly, “I promise to do my best, dear leader!” You gave her a playful salute as you handed her the last of the paperwork and made a break for freedom.

As you cut through the courtyard, lost in your thoughts, you can hear a rhythmic thumping coming from the open doors of the gym. You check your watch and heave a sigh, they'll be locking the gates soon. 

You make your way over to the open door and take a glance inside, your feet coming to a halt as you lay your eyes on Kyoutani Kentarou, still in his school uniform, alone in the gym practicing serves. 

You watch him for a minute and it occurs to you how much he's improved even to the untrained eye, he's still impossibly powerful, but the amount of control he seems to have now is a world away from what it was. You check your watch again.

You clear your throat as he's reaching for his next ball, cutting through the moment of quiet. He looks up, adorned with his customary scowl, and freezes as his eyes land on you. You're not sure why, but you make a decision.

“So, the leaving ceremony is next week....” Your words hang uncomfortably in the air as his eyebrows knit together tighter, no response. You take a couple of steps toward him, “A friend-” your voice catches awkwardly on the word, unsure why the lie feels so out of place here, but you power through “A friend of mine is having a party afterwards, at her house?” 

“....So?” His voice is gruff. 

You feel your eye twitch a little in annoyance. To the point then. “I was wondering if you might want to come with me?” He glares at you but you refuse to look away, although he's silent long enough that you start to feel embarrassed. Of course he doesn't want to, what are you thinking?

“Like a date?” The question takes you by surprise. 

You blink twice. Why not. “Yeah, like a date.” 

There's another unbearable silence before he gives a single nod, “Ok.”, turning back to what he was doing.

“Ok”, you repeat. You smile to yourself and head home, happily leaving the job of getting him to leave to someone else.

Your 'date' could have gotten off to a better start, to be honest. 

It's not like you had expected him to suddenly become a font of conversation, but over the past week, the little interactions you had shared while arranging the finer details of when and where, had given you some hope of at least full sentences to deal with, even if they'd stayed short and curt.

But no, you'd decided on a low cut top that had seemingly rendered him mute upon arrival, and he has so far spent the whole time unwilling to give you more than one word answers, which he has only given while pointedly talking directly to your tits. 

He also seems to be following you around like a lost puppy, never more than a few feet from where you are, which would be fine if he didn't seem to chase every other living being away with nothing more than his presence. 

Granted, the night has gotten a little easier as everyone has continued to drink, slowly getting used to the scowling lurker in their midst, but it's done nothing to ease your growing frustration with the whole situation.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Do you want a drink?”

“No.”

“Do you want to dance?”

“No.”

Finally your patience snaps. “Right, that's enough.” You grab his hand and drag him up the stairs and away from the crowd, opening and closing doors until you find an unoccupied room and drag him into it. Slamming the door closed behind you, you belatedly realise that it's a bedroom, and from all the pink covering every square inch, you'd place a pretty solid bet that this was your dear leaders bedroom. Of course it is.

You gather yourself and turn to him, irritation leaking from every pore, eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?” He doesn't answer, but at least he has the decency to look you in the eye while ignoring you this time. You reason that it'd probably be pretty difficult to throttle him. “Do you want to leave?”

“No.” He's quick to answer that one, but when he doesn't elaborate you take a calming breath and move another step towards him.

“I know we don't know each other very well,” At all, you don't know each other at all, your mind screams, he's just some random boy you're apparently obsessed with. You ignore it, “but I can tell that sometimes your silence is just you thinking really hard,” There's a flicker of something in his eyes, so you continue. “but if you never tell me what you're thinking, then I can't know what you want.” You say it simply, at this point you just want to understand him better.

“What I want?” His tone is quiet, even if it never quite reaches soft. 

He's staring so hard at your chest you can't help but laugh, he's such a difficult boy. “What do you want, Kyoutani?”

“Can I touch them?” He looks you in the eye as he asks, you feel your cheeks get warm as something like fondness bubbles up in you. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder which one of you is weirder, the guy who's like this, or the girl who likes that he's like this. 

You gingerly reach out and take his hand, his whole body unnaturally rigid as you bring it to your chest, pressing his palm against your breast. When he doesn't move, you place your hand over his and squeeze, it's all he needs to get going.

His handling of you is firm, but more gentle than you had imagined he would be, so you don't flinch as he brings up his other hand up to fondle both at once. He's attentive in a way you've never experienced before. It feels good.

His pawing gets more insistent, you cover his hand with yours, slipping your fingers between his, as you guide it under your top. You feel your skin tingle as his calloused fingertips dip slightly into your bra, his other hand stilling as his attention pin points to the skin-on-skin contact. It makes you brave.

You run your finger along the neckline of your top, pushing it down and hooking it below the cups of your bra, leaving your cleavage fully exposed to him. 

You watch his tongue run over his lower lip, as he starts to lean towards you, his face so close you can feel his breath on your skin, he stops, looking up at you, “Can I?” 

You nod, he buries his face between your breasts, massaging them firmly. He kisses along the exposed skin, occasionally pressing his teeth against the soft flesh but never actually biting. He finds your hard nipple through your bra, pinching it between his thumb and finger, eliciting an unexpected moan from you. 

He moves his body to press closer to you at the sound, his actions becoming more forceful, his attentions needy. He slips his hand into your bra easily and you gasp as he exposes you, quickly wrapping his lips around your nipple. You moan appreciatively, unsure of what to do with yourself, you rest one hand gently on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, tracing along the stark black lines in amongst all the blond. 

He moves his attention to your other breast, repeating the action easily like he'd bared you to him a thousand times. He squeezes them tightly together, switching eagerly between your nipples, occasionally stopping to bite and suck at any exposed bit of skin within range. You feel an ache low in your belly and you think about how you're being marked as his.

He's becoming more aggressive the hornier he gets, but he flinches away from you when you reach down to touch his very obvious erection. “I could help you with that?” You offer sweetly. 

He glares at you for a second before letting his eyes roam, he's taking the view in, your tits out, covered in his saliva, red marks littering your chest. “Please.” That gruff little word is music to your ears. 

You pull him towards you as you lean back against the wall, you place his hand back on your chest. Your eyes flicking to his tongue as it darts swiftly across his lower lip. “Do you want to kiss me?” He stares at you hard before nodding, he leans in slowly, lips meeting yours a little awkwardly. 

When you palm his erection through his trousers his grip on your breast becomes almost painful as he crushes his mouth against yours, not even stopping when your teeth momentarily clash. You put your hands on his chest and move him away slightly, you laugh as you catch your breath, a little surprised at how quickly he can go from zero to ten. “Easy there, tiger,” He stops, looking confused. Ok, you'll stay in charge then. 

You undo his trousers, your hand slipping easily into his underwear, you can't help but notice the tip is already coated in pre-cum. He groans as your fingers touch bare skin, wrapping your fingers loosely around him and stroking slowly. You want to make him feel good. “What are you thinking?”

He gazes at your chest again, “I want to fuck them.” A smile pulls at the corner of your lips. Of course he does.

You lead him to the bed where you take a seat in front of him. You spread your legs wide enough so he can stand between them as you free him from his boxers. You take a second to lick the palm of your hand a few times before running it up and down his erection, leaving him slick to the touch. 

You take his hands and place them on either side of your chest, where he obediently starts groping at you again, you guide his length between your breasts and he instinctively squeezes them tightly around his shaft.

He lets out a low growl. You brace yourself with one hand on the bed behind you and put the other on his hip, encouraging him to start thrusting. He starts slow as he seeks out the combination of speed and pressure he likes best. 

You watch him as he watches you, he looks at you more intently than anyone you've ever met, you wonder what he thinks when he looks at you. It occurs to you that this is not how you saw your night going, but while you're surprised, it would be impossible to say you're disappointed. You think that maybe you could like yourself when you're with him. He makes you feel brave. 

You notice he's gotten a little quiet and refocus your eyes back on his, his intensity is breath taking, you love the way he looks at you. You give him a genuine smile. 

His pace stutters and he lets out a growl as he misjudges his thrust, you hold his stare as his grunts become breathy and erratic. “Can I?”

“My chest.” You lift your chin, just in case, so you can hold his stare as he blows his load all over your tits. For the first time, he looks away first, screwing his eyes shut tight as he pants above you. 

Once he's caught his breath he looks down at you, taking in your position as clarity washes over him, tucking himself back into his trousers and moving away from you, he helplessly looks around the room for something he can offer you to help clean up. 

It's a sweet thought but you've already found the answer to that particular problem, grabbing the corner of the bed sheet, using it to wipe away his spent seed so you can redress yourself. Not that there's going to be any way to hide the mess of marks that now cover your chest.

“Is it ok to do that to your friend's bed?” His concern sounds faint, but genuine. It occurs to you that he might have a more considerate side than you'd thought.

You shrug. “I always hated her, anyway.” 

He gives you a feral smirk. Maybe not, then. 

Still, you can't help but return it. “Walk me home?”

He holds his hand out to you, “Let's go.”


	4. His Night - Kuroo Tetsurou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fancy dress and some light BDSM with your favourite boy. What more could you want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I got comments! Actual comments! And they didn't hate it! I genuinely had no idea it would feel this good lol

“How do I look?”

You pause before pressing the doorbell and do a quick spin for your boyfriend as he looks you up and down. 

“Like the prettiest dead girl I've ever seen.” Kuroo Tetsurou gives you his best appreciative grin as he leans in to kiss you. 

You bring your hand to his lips and stop him before he reaches you. “You're gonna ruin my make up.” 

He pouts against your touch. “But it's my night!” He whines petulantly, pressing in to nuzzle against the bandages around your neck. 

“When we get home.” Your tone is firm but you can't help the sigh that escapes you as his warm breath breezes across the bare skin of your shoulder. His fingers creep up to pull at the strap of your sleeveless white nightdress, You slap his hand away. “Until then I get to say no to you whenever I want.” 

Before he can complain any further, you press the doorbell to the noisy house, eager to be out of the cold. 

“Happy Halloween!” Your host stops mid-greeting. Eyes frozen on Kuroo. “Oh. My. God.”

You roll your eyes because you know how excited he's going to be now his moment has come. 

A pleased grin splits his face as he steps into the doorway. “You rang?” 

Even you had to admit the costume was very impressive. When he'd first said he wanted to go to this little get together as a Roman Catholic priest, you'd blamed the recent uptick in horror movies he'd been consuming and assumed it would pass. Now, a month later, here we are. He'd even managed to find one with red trim because no matter how old he gets, some things will apparently never change. 

And, worst of all, he looks damned good in it and he knows it.

Prop bible in one hand, he lays the other on your hosts shoulder, “My child, when was your last confession?” When it becomes clear they are too bewildered to play along he moves further into the house, greeted by many cheers, presumably to carry on the charade.

As your hosts eyes swing back to you, you give a helpless shrug and hand over the bottle of wine you'd brought as an offering. “Thanks for inviting us.” You step into the house and close the door behind you quickly, fighting off a full body shiver. 

Your host looks you up and down. “Oh, you must be freezing! You look really good though, the bandages are a nice touch.” You fiddle self consciously with the ones on your wrists and give a quiet moment of thanks to Kuroo for suggesting wrapping them around your ankles as well, almost positive that, if not for that extra bit of coverage, you wouldn't have any feeling left in your toes right now. 

You make your way around the various groups of guests, posing for pictures and taking your time to greet and catch up with people you rarely get to see anymore. 

After a while, you excuse yourself to the kitchen to make yourself a drink. You're not one to overindulge these days, even if the lively atmosphere does make it tempting, but you know the deal, even if you wanted to, getting blind drunk on his night would be unfair. 

“Mm and what do we have here?” If you weren't so used to his sneaking up on you after all this time, you probably would've jumped out of your skin as he speaks, lips brushing against your ear.

“It's my first, don't worry.” You try to fight the smile threatening to escape you as he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against the counter as he rubs his nose against that sensitive spot behind your ear that you like. “You're not bored already, are you?”

He hums thoughtfully, “I wouldn't say bored exactly,” he sways you softly to the music as he talks, “just hard not to think about... other things.” His grip tightens on you just enough that you feel anticipation tickle at the edge of your senses. 

“We've only just got here,” You try to extract yourself from his arms gently, careful not to turn it into a game or you know you'll be here all night. “The shepherd doesn't want to disappoint his flock now, does he?” You know you've chosen the right argument when he releases you without a fight. 

He heaves an exaggerated sigh, “Fine, I suppose that wouldn't be very holy of me. After all, 'Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.'” He looks very proud of himself.

You give him an unimpressed look. “Really, cum jokes?” He looks down at you, grinning like the cat who got the cream. You narrow your eyes at him. “You have a hentai smile, you know that?” 

He doesn't even have the decency to look offended. 

You shoo him towards the door, “Go. Play.” 

He lets you push him with little resistance, pausing briefly in the doorway, he turns back to you. “Oh, that's what I meant to say.” He gives you a knowing smirk. “Did you know, when you stand in front of a light, that dress goes almost completely see-through?” 

You look down at yourself, suddenly concerned. “I....did not.”

“Something to keep in mind, then.” He gives you an arrogant wink and disappears into the throng of people before you can find something to throw at him. Although, it does mean you decide against a second drink, you're not particularly shy but still, you'd rather get out of this party with your dignity intact. 

By the time you get home it's past midnight. The party had still been going strong when you'd finally made your excuses to leave, it had been fun but as the hours had ticked by it had become impossible to ignore your boyfriend's prowling as he'd shadowed you around the house, waiting for you to meet his eye before letting his gaze roam over you in a way that left your mouth dry. 

The second he closes the front door you feel the silence become heavy. You turn to see him, back leaning against the door, as he looks at you expectantly. Your stomach flips at the sight, he's got you here now, and with him blocking the exit it's clear there's no escape. A warmth spreads through you. 

“Bedroom.” His tone is pitched deep, commanding. You obey.

He doesn't touch you until you stop, standing at the foot of your bed. His hands graze your shoulders and bare arms as he circles you. “Finally done playing hard to get?” You feel goosebumps break out across your skin. You nod, compliant. 

“Good.” He sits on the end of the bed and turns you to face him. He runs a hand down the outside of your leg and encourages you to lift it, settling your foot in his lap as he slowly unravels the bandage around your ankle. “I've been patient, like you wanted.” He repeats the process with your other leg. “Now it's my turn to get what I want.”

He turns you away from him. He runs his fingertips down your arms. The only sound you can hear is your own breathing. You feel a tugging sensation before he pulls your arms behind your back and you feel a spike in pressure as the bandages momentarily bite into your skin as he ties them together at the wrist. 

He tugs on the knot, seemingly satisfied. There's a rustle of movement behind you as he shifts, something soft grazing the palms of your restrained hands, he brushes your hair to one side, baring your bandaged neck. His fingers work diligently, and in next to no time you feel the results of his efforts as your arms are pulled at an angle that is almost, but not quite uncomfortable, and the pressure around your throat increases as you realise they're now connected by a length of bandage running along your spine, you assume, one of the ones he took from your ankles. A shudder rolls through you as your excitement rises. 

He turns you towards him again, looking you over thoughtfully as he checks the tightness around your neck. “Good?” You nod, eager to start. 

He gives you a predatory grin as he stretches out the last bandage between his hands, pulling it taught before standing up and looming over you. You realise he's going to gag you. “Any last words?” He's practically purring.

You make your eyes wide and pull out your best innocent look. “Forgive me Father for I have sinned.”

He groans appreciatively, it turns into a growl as his eyes roll back and his grin becomes painfully wide. “This is why I love you, you give the best gifts.”

With no further ado he pushes the improvised gag into your mouth, tying it behind your head and pushing you towards the bed. It's hard to balance in the position you're in so you stumble awkwardly, he catches you by the elbow, altering your momentum so you fall onto your side on the mattress. 

For all his talk he's quick to shed his costume, the character may be a fun one but accessibility is his highest priority now. He pulls you roughly further up the bed as he straddles your legs. "I've always wanted to do this." Gripping the hem of your nightdress and yanking, the distressed material rips easily, quickly becoming little more than torn rags for him to throw aside, pleased. 

This is when he notices your second gift to him. You're wearing his favourite underwear. A white see-through lace bra and a matching, almost pointlessly thin, g-string. 

You remember the day he'd skipped home with your “birthday present”, proudly holding out a box from your favourite lingerie shop. You'd been immediately horrified at how tacky it had looked, nothing like anything you would have ever picked for yourself, but the disappointment on his face that you didn't like it was genuine and it had left him skulking around the apartment looking like a kicked puppy. So that night when you'd emerged from the bathroom wearing them, the look on his face alone had made it all worthwhile, well, that and the sex that had quickly followed. 

You'd become quite fond of the set since then, and when you'd realised the party had fallen on his designated night, you'd known he wouldn't be able to make it through without riling himself up, and you'd wanted to make the most of it. Even if you'd have to freeze to death to make it happen.

“Oh baby,” he murmurs as he looks you over, “Was this for me?”

When he meets your eyes the affection in them makes your heart swell. You nod and he gives you a genuine smile, a rare, private thing that has only ever been for your eyes only. 

He reaches up and tugs on your gag, pulling it loose and free from your mouth. You're confused until he moves to kiss you, deep and slow and full of love, it's so out of character that for a second you think he's changed his plans.

He breaks away and you look up at him, questioning, “Don't worry,” he smirks, “You're not getting off the hook that easily.” He shifts your position so your head is hanging of the edge of the bed, “Might as well take this opportunity before that goes back on. Say 'ahh'.”

You part your lips obediently as he lines up his cock before sliding it smoothly into your mouth. He groans as he starts to thrust, shallow and lazy, hands running over your chest, mesmerised, as always, by the sight of your hardening nipples through the mesh fabric of your bra, his knees knocking against the bed making your tits bounce pleasantly.

He spreads his fingers wide, running his hand down your bare stomach, he's always loved how big his hands look when they're on you, he glides over your mound before palming at your sex, relishing the feel of your hips rolling against his touch as he pushes his cock deeper into your throat. 

He slips his fingers under the already damp material, fingertips dipping into you easily, before rubbing roughly across your clit. You moan against him and it takes all his self control not to force his length fully into you. 

He slides out of your mouth, his cock slick with saliva, he can't resist stroking himself a few times as you catch your breath before his attention returns to you. He kneels on the floor beside you, kissing you once more before returning the gag to it's place, careful not to let it dig too painfully into your now tender lips. 

He flips you over onto your front, positioning himself behind you on the mattress. For all of his manhandling, he's well-practiced at being gentle while removing your underwear, though you know it's not really for your benefit, after all, it'd be a shame if you couldn't wear them anymore just because he got overexcited. 

He lifts you by the hips so he can kneel between your legs, leaving you face down against the bed. He spits into his hand and rubs it up and down his length, spreading you wide before lining himself up against you. “Ready?”

Before you can give any kind of response he slams into you hard enough that you see stars, knocking the air from your lungs as he sheaths himself entirely in you, before pulling all the way out and doing it again. His pace slow but unrelenting, grunting with every thrust. He keeps a firm grip on your hip with one hand as he reaches for your arms with the other, taking hold of the point where your wrists meet and pulling firmly. 

You feel the bandages tighten around your throat and pleasure ripples through you, no matter how many ways you both seek out pleasure, this has always been your favourite. The restriction of oxygen giving you a deliciously heady rush.

Your moans cause him to change his approach, opting not to remove himself from you fully anymore so he can focus on increasing his speed, he loves the way he makes you sound. 

Just as you can feel your climax starting to build, something shifts as the knot starts to loosen, the pressure on your throat easing. Your moans take on a frustrated tone that he immediately picks up on. He cranes his neck to look at you, pace slowing. “Not enough?” You shake your head.

You feel him readjust without pulling out, leaning his weight back onto his heels so he can pull you more into his lap. The angle of him presses uncomfortably against your inner wall for a moment before you feel him drag you up by your bound arms until you're upright and pulled flush against his chest. 

An arm snakes around your waist as his hand slides up between your breasts, before taking a hold of your throat, bracing you so you don't overbalance, You tip your head back and moan appreciatively as he gives you a firm squeeze. “You know I got you, baby.” his voice a husky whisper.

His free hand returns to it's place, helping you lift your hips before slamming you back down onto him, all restraint shot by how good you feel, unable and unwilling to hold back anymore as instinct takes over, his only point of concentration remaining being where his hand meets your throat, careful to keep it just how you like it.

It's all too much and within a few minutes your moans hit a familiar pitch and he knows you're getting close. He holds your body tight against him as he tips you both forward, pinning you face down on the bed with his bodyweight, never easing his grip on your throat as he pounds into you, releasing you only once your body starts to buck and spasm beneath him, freeing you to suck in a large breath through your nose as endorphins flood through you.

His pace stays unforgiving as he drills you into the mattress, chasing his own orgasm. It comes quickly, and hard, spilling himself inside you before his arms give out and he collapses on top of you, both of you temporarily unable to do anything more than catch your breath.

Without moving from you he pulls at the knot by your wrists, allowing you to finally be able to move your arms, you're going to feel that tomorrow. “How was that for you?” His voice sounds heavy, he always gets tired so quickly after sex. You hum happily before he remembers you're still gagged. He chuckles softly, “I could get used to you being this quiet you know?” You decide you can be irritated with him later, for now, you think, he's earned your silence.

He kisses along your shoulders, thrusting gently as he starts to soften inside you, you always love these moments with him after sex, the display of intimacy that reaffirms that, no matter how rough you get with each other, the love is always there. 

You lose yourself to his attentions as he unwraps the bandages, taking the time to kiss where you're sore, then you know he'll carry you to the bathtub where you'll bathe together, before he'll take you to bed, holding you close to his chest where you'll fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat knowing that, next time, it'll be your night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might do a second part to this one at some point. I was originally only planning on doing stand alone stories but I might make an exception here and there, sorry!


	5. Torn - Futakuchi Kenji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember, just because he loves you, it doesn't mean that he won't hurt you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I don't know what happened with this one, it really got away from me. It's so long! It's also much less balanced than I've tried to keep the others, falling heavily on the side of plot rather than sex. I'm sorry if that doesn't interest you!

That asshole.

He'd known you were on the closing shift tonight so when you'd finally gotten a break and been able to check your phone just to find 16 missed calls waiting for you, you'd been immediately alarmed. He was supposed to be out on a stag do so why he was calling you at all was a complete mystery. 

You'd tried calling him back a number of times over your break time but it had just kept going straight to answer phone. Then for the rest of the night there'd been nothing else from him. 

So, here you were, at 2am after a 10 hour shift, dragging yourself to his place to check up on him when you would much rather be at home.

You head up the stairs of his apartment building, careful not to let any doors slam behind you. When you reach his door you resist the urge to vent your irritation by hammering on it, instead choosing to knock as quietly as reasonably possible. It wasn't his neighbours fault he was an asshole. 

When there's no answer you dig around in your bag and pull out the spare key he'd given you months ago. You think back as your thumb runs over the plastic coating, 

“You work too late and I can't sleep with the door unlocked, just let yourself in and leave me to my beauty sleep.” 

You smile at the memory, most people would've bristled at his attitude but you'd known better, all the proof you'd needed was the fact he'd had it personalised in your favourite colour. 

You slide the key into the lock and let yourself into the apartment. “Futakuchi?” You call into the darkness, no answer. You shut the door behind you and make your way down the hall to his bedroom, the bed is still made and there's no other sign he's been home yet. 

You head out into the living room and drop heavily onto the sofa as you pull out your phone. You call him again, it goes straight to answer phone. You fire off another text and let out a sigh, resting your head against the back of the sofa, unsure what to do for the best.

You didn't know the people he was out with, you also didn't have any contact information for anyone in his regular friend group. This thing between you two had been casual for so long that by the time things had become more... comfortable... it hadn't seemed weird that no one else knew about you. 

“Please be ok, idiot.” 

You must have dozed off because at some point you suddenly snap back into consciousness, blood pounding in your ears, unsure of what caused it as it takes you a few moments to remember where you are.

You hear a scraping sound against the lock, followed by a heavy thump that rattles the front door. “Kenji!” You jump up and head for the door, swinging it open just to be greeted by a crumpled Futakuchi lying at your feet. 

He looks up at you, bleary eyed, eyebrows furrowed, “What are you doing here?”

You resist the urge to kick him. “Hello to you too, handsome.”

You watch as he tries, and fails, to right himself. You look up at the ceiling and allow yourself a heavy sigh before leaning down beside him. He smells like a brewery. “Ok let's get you up, big guy.”

You put his arm around your neck as you wrap yours around his waist. If working at a bar had given you one thing, it was plenty of experience dealing with drunks. “One, two, three.” You lift him with all your strength, stumbling a little as he refuses to help, choosing instead to play the role of a belligerent, half-filled sack of potatoes.

Inevitably, you overbalance, but he at least has enough sense to put his arm out so you can lean him against the doorway, shifting positions so you can help him stumble towards the sofa, the bed seeming like too tall of an order to get him to without injury. 

It's at this point you realise it's not just booze he smells of, there's a decent amount of perfume mixed in as well. You push down your annoyance, he's always been a flirt, there wasn't a snowballs chance in hell that he was going to be different on a stag do of all things. 

You drop him gracelessly onto the sofa, taking a minute to stretch out your back as he grumbles into the seat cushions. He might have a slight build but lord was he heavy. 

It takes some manoeuvring but you manage to get him lying on his side. You crouch down beside him, running your fingers through his hair to get it out of his face. You huff a frustrated laugh when you realise he's already snoring. 

Well, at least he's ok. You think back on the number of missed calls and wonder what had triggered it. Truth be told, you'd been wondering about a lot of things when it came to him recently. He had always been temperamental to a degree, but lately his jokes had felt a little more biting, his tone more dismissive. You push it away. 

You notice his lip looks swollen and wonder what exactly he'd gotten himself into tonight. You brush your fingertips along his lip fondly, but freeze when they come away stained red. For half a second you think he's bleeding, but reality catches up to you all too quickly. It's lipstick. 

You tell yourself it doesn't mean anything but then you look closer at him and your stomach drops. Little purple marks litter his throat, his shirt has been buttoned up wrong and he doesn't have his belt anymore. 

You rock back on your heels, pulling your hand away from him like you've been burned, and drop heavily onto the floor. You stare at him.

Your eyes start to sting but you clamp down on it. Absolutely not.

You decide you can't stay here, but you can't bring yourself to leave him alone in this condition. You dig through his pockets to find his phone, unlocking it easily, he'd never been shy with you about his passwords. You open his inbox and skim through the messages to find the guy who'd invited him tonight, you know they're good friends and with them only going out locally you reason he should be able to get here.

You hit call. It takes a few goes but he finally answers. “Futakuchi! You dog, you never came back. How was she? Did you get your moneys worth?” You glare down at your boyfriend's sleeping form and it takes everything you have to swallow down the painful lump in your throat. “You there man?”

You clear your throat, “I've got your friend here, he's made it home but he's in no state to be left alone. You were his top contact so he's your problem now.”

The voice on the other end falters, “Who is this?”

You stare at your key, still sitting on the coffee table. No one important, you think bitterly. “I'm just the girl who found your buddy passed out in the hallway. Are you coming or not?”

“I mean... I guess? Unless you-”

You cut him off. “No. The key will be under the mat.”

You end the call, reopening the contact screen and forwarding the address just in case. You look down on the sleeping man. “Asshole.” Your voice wavers dangerously. 

You grab your bag and walk out of the door for the last time. Locking the door behind you, slipping your key under the mat and walking away. 

You get back to your place around dawn without really noticing how you got there. You take a long shower to clear your head a little. You get your shit together enough to suck it up and do all the hard stuff at once. You block his number and social accounts, deleting his info as you go so it can't be easily undone before calling in a load of favours to get your shifts covered for the rest of the week. Then you'd packed a bag and headed for the train station, planning to head home for a few days to let the worst of it pass. 

Your carriage is practically empty, not many people heading out into the country this early in the day. You curl up against the window as you watch the scenery whip by, trying, and failing, to think of anything but him. Flashes and snippets race through your mind at break neck speed, pinballing from one memory to another. 

The smile on your face as the bars resident flirt appears in front of you, refusing to acknowledge you until you greeted him appropriately. “Hello handsome.”

How hard you'd laughed when he'd been pulled into a staff debate on the best way to confess to someone, he'd looked at you, eyes shining with mischief. “Just tell them that you hope they think of you when they masturbate, it conveys all they need to know.”

Your first kiss. There'd been a power cut at work while you were collecting glasses, the bar descended into chaos and in the midst of it you felt a hand slip into yours as you'd been pulled against someone's chest. You'd been indignant, “Hey! What are you doing?” Relief had flooded through you when his breath had tickled your ear, “Would you believe me if I said I was afraid of the dark?” You'd given him a solid no. “Damn.”, you could hear his smile, then his lips had been on yours and it was like there was no one else in the room. 

That night he'd waited outside for you to finish locking up, “My place is close.” 

His fingers slipping between yours as he lazily fucked you in his bed, never in a hurry to be done.

You can't fight it this time as the tears flow freely now, “Oh, Kenji.” you whisper to no one in particular. 

Where had it gone wrong? You rack your brain. 

The first time you'd noticed something had been off was a couple of months ago after you'd spent the night at his, you'd been getting ready for a busy shift and he'd hovered in the doorway, giving you an unreadable look. “Do you have to wear that?” 

You'd looked down at yourself, a graphic tee and black skirt was a standard combo. You'd been confused. “What do you mean?”

He'd given you a dismissive shrug, “It's a little short, isn't it?” His face set like he was tasting something bitter.

You'd felt annoyance prickle at you. “Do you know how hot it gets behind that bar when the place is packed?” 

He'd immediately eased off, his most charming smile slipping back into place, “And here I was thinking they'd been for my benefit to lure me in.” He'd kissed you then, insisting on sex before you left, leaving you uncharacteristically late for work. 

These kind of moments had come up infrequently after that, it had started leaving you unsure of him at strange times. The littlest things seeming to leave him sullen just for him to reappear later as his normal self, seeking you out to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. 

Well, whatever it was, it was in the past now. Some things can't be undone. You push it from your mind, eager to get home, away from anything that might remind you of him.

The busiest night of the week was the open mic night every Saturday, which meant it was always an all hands on deck shift, and with no way to find cover, you'd had to suck it up and head back to real life if you wanted to still have a job at the end of all this. 

You still didn't feel perfect, but you at least felt more like yourself again now, more sure that you were going to be able to cope with whatever came your way. 

You knew you were going to have to face him at some point, he was a long-time regular after all, that wouldn't change just because of this. You grimace as your boss' voice echoes in your head “Don't fuck around with the customers! Is bad for business!” You sigh, at least you're not on closing tonight. 

You get into work an hour early, too restless to sit at home and wait. You make your way around back to the staff entrance, distractedly rooting around your bag for your keys, when you walk face first into someone's chest. 

“Shit, sorry man.”, you look up as you apologise, just to be greeted by the familiar face of Matsukawa Issei, unlit cigarette hanging from his lip and his trademark bored expression in place. “Oh, it's just you.” you say, relieved. 

He cocks an eyebrow, “Charming.”

You laugh apologetically, “Sorry, my bad, it's just been one of those weeks.”

He nods his head slowly in understanding as he lights his cigarette. He takes a long drag. 

You like Matsukawa. He'd signed up as a house musician a few months ago after his band had played here at a private event. He'd practically become a part of the furniture since then, rarely a night goes by where he isn't in place on his favourite stool at the far end of the bar. He's good people.

You make conversation as you unlock the back door. “You playing tonight?”

“I'm on cover, will have to wait and see.” He turns his attention back to the phone in his hand as he smokes. 

You nod, there was always a couple of no-shows or absent band members so having people like him around could be a lifesaver on nights like this. “I'm heading in, I'll leave the door open so just let yourself in once you're ready, no point in making you wait for opening.” 

He gives a slow wave of thanks as you disappear into the building, depositing your bag in the break room just inside as you pass down the lone hallway and into the cavernous main room.

Even for all your grumbling, the second you're inside it, it feels like you've come home. You wonder when this fusty old run-down bar had become so important to you. 

You're the first member of staff on site today, excluding the boss who must be locked away in the back office, the only sign of him being the obnoxiously loud 80's power ballads that were echoing through the sound system. 

You go into autopilot, giving the bottles a quick once over to see what needs restocking before heading out onto the floor to start dragging the tables and chairs into their regular places. 

It isn't long before Matsukawa appears at your side, silently helping with the heavy lifting without needing to be asked. It occurs to you he probably knows the drill as well as you do these days. 

When all is in its right place, you return to the bar to check the kegs, taking a minute to pour your helper a thank you drink before heading into the back, past the toilets and into the office to grab the tills. 

You ignore the glare your boss gives you when you shut off his music. “It's almost time, boss.” He gives you a grunt, his eyes returning to the computer screen in front of him as you grab what you need and head towards the door. 

“Is good to have you back.” 

You turn back to gawk at him, he doesn't acknowledge you but you know what you heard. You leave without saying anything in return, scared you'll cry at the unexpected kindness from the gruff foreigner. 

As more staff trickle in you start to feel almost good, eager to be back at it after a week of nothing but moping. Maybe tonight won't be so bad after all.

Your luck lasts only a few hours.

You're serving drinks as a pretty little thing sings along with her acoustic guitar on stage when you hear a voice cut through the relative quiet of the audience. You look towards the door as you see half a dozen people make their way over to one of the larger booths still available. 

Your heart drops into your stomach when your eyes land on him, smiling and talking loudly to the couple of girls in the group. As they pass he doesn't even glance your way.

You will yourself to ignore it, dragging your attention back to the customer in front of you. “Sorry, what was that?” He repeats his order, annoyed. You apologise again and head over to the beer taps. 

You try to stop yourself but your eyes pull in his direction, heedless of what you think you want. It takes a surprising amount of effort not to drop the glass in your hand when you realise he has his arm wrapped around one of the girls' shoulders, she's looking past him, towards the stage, when he says something in her ear that makes her laugh. 

Your whole body feels heavy, like you're made of lead. You distractedly hand the customer his drink before tapping one of the other bar staff on the shoulder. “Bathroom.” He nods and takes over your customers as you make your escape. 

You head straight into the toilets, slamming the stall door closed as you fight the urge to vomit. You rest your head back against the wall, taking deep breaths as wave after wave of nausea rolls up from the pit of your stomach, trying to ignore the barrage of questions screaming in your head. 

Why do this here? Did he see you? Is that who he was with that night? 

“Does it matter?” You ask yourself aloud, pushing the rest away as you try to ground yourself. 

Does he even care? 

You swallow hard. That one hurts too much to look at so you ignore it instead. 

You also ignore the burn in the back of your eyes. You'll be damned if you'll shed even a single tear over him tonight.

Once the worst of it has passed, you leave the stall and head to the sink to wash your face. You grip the basin as you gather yourself, you can do this. You check your reflection in the mirror and sigh. Nothing you can do about it now. 

You steel yourself as you swing the bathroom door open with purpose, ready to march back out into the fray, when you collide bodily with someone else.

An arm reaches out to steady you as you ricochet off of him and stumble back towards the door. A familiar laid back tone greets you. 

“We have to stop meeting like this.” 

You look up at who else but Matsukawa, seemingly on his return from a smoke break. His eyes go from vaguely teasing to concerned. “You ok? No offence but you look kinda..” he trails off but you know what he means. 

“Like shit?” You offer honestly. 

The corner of his mouth twitches upwards as he shrugs one shoulder. “Your word, not mine.”

You can't help but smile back, “Duly noted.” You turn towards the main room and he falls into step easily beside you, quiet yet comfortable, same as always. 

By the time you make it back to your station behind the bar, you have your game face on and you're determined to do a better job of controlling your curiosity. It's just work, this is nothing you can't handle. 

You fail a few times, eyes naturally scanning the crowd whenever there was no one who needed serving. You'd even made eye contact a couple of times, his face unreadable, but when his arm had stayed firmly in place around her, the message had felt pretty clear.

The night rolls on.

After a particularly tricky set with an inexperienced band, Matsukawa had made his way down from the stage and headed directly to the bar. You poured him his well earned on-the-house drink of choice in commiseration. 

When he took it from you and downed it in one, you poured him another. “It's on me.” You practically have to shout over the din as a heavy metal act starts up. He puts his hands together as if in prayer and bows his head dramatically in thanks, promptly sinking that one too before moving back down the bar and returning to his seat. 

You can't help but laugh, poor guy. You dig around under the counter looking for something else you can offer him and find a bowl of wrapped sweets from god knows when. You split one open and inspect it, it looks safe enough. 

You whistle to get his attention as you chuck one to him. He catches it easily, squinting suspiciously at the wrapper before shrugging, tearing it open and popping it into his mouth. When he looks pleasantly surprised you decide to take one for yourself too.

A little later on, as you're finishing up with a customer, a knocking sound catches your attention. It's Matsukawa. He points at the bowl, then at himself, while gesturing a pretty convincing 'please'. You smile as you chuck him another. 

Once out of the wrapper he checks you're watching before leaning back on his stool, tossing the sweet high into the air before catching it in his mouth. He looks back at you and raises his eyebrows. You can practically hear him asking if you're impressed. 

You roll your eyes, grabbing one for yourself and copying his actions, unreasonably pleased with yourself that you actually manage to catch the damn thing. You give him an exaggeratedly smug look, an expression he apparently reads as a challenge. 

He points at the bowl again, this time though, he points at his mouth, leaving it open as he gestures for you to throw another. You're not sure if he's serious but when you hesitate he twirls his finger impatiently in the air, message clear, hurry up. 

You decide to take it out of the wrapper for him, concerned about it's cleanliness, you also choose to throw it underarm rather than over, not particularly keen to just lob one at his face. You swing your arm, mouthing 'one, two, three'.

On three you release it and wince, knowing it's going to be slightly too short. To your genuine amazement though, he reaches across the counter, gripping the edge furthest from him and hauls himself forward, hanging over the bar, so he can turn his head just enough to catch it out of mid-air, before pushing himself back into his seat, arms raised in celebration. It's the most animated you've ever seen him.

You give an actual woop in surprise before you give him a well-earned round of applause. You had no idea he could be so athletic. He mimes a bow and laughter bubbles out of you. He's wearing a warm smile as he gives you a wink.

Before you've taken your eyes off him you hear a glass thunk down on the bar, you turn towards the customer and your blood runs cool as you lock eyes with Futakuchi. 

He looks at you for a long second, his face a mask. “Another.” He pushes the glass across the counter at you and you oblige, your feet automatically taking you to his favourite tap. 

You hand him the drink and he takes it without a word, leaving the money on the counter as he heads back to his table. 

When you reach the till to ring it up, Matsukawa is already stood there. He leans down to look at your face, “Everything ok?”

You nod, stiffly. 

“You know, that guy seems like a dick.” his eyebrows furrow a little as he looks over at the table. “And kind of familiar.”

You shrug, “He's a regular.”

His eyes shift between you and Futakuchi, unconvinced. “Yeah, that must be it.” You close the till drawer a little too hard, your hands feel numb. He continues, “You finish soon, yeah?”

You look down at your watch, surprised to see that he's right. “Any minute now, actually. Why?” 

He shrugs, “I'm starving, was gonna grab something to eat on the way home, thought maybe you'd wanna join me?”

You look at him, surprised. He's never shown any interest in socialising with you before. “Really?”

He shrugs again, “Beats eating alone.”

He's got a point. “Yeah, ok.”

His eyebrows jump up somewhere near his hairline like he's surprised you agreed. “Yeah? Well then... you know where I'll be.” He points towards his favourite spot and spins on his heel, heading back to his seat. 

You shut down your till, slipping the plastic insert out to be deposited in the office ready for the money to be counted in the morning, the boss having left hours ago. 

As you close the safe you hear the office door open behind you. Knowing everyone else is busy you figure it must be a customer, the door being so close to the bathrooms means it happens every so often. You turn, giving your usual line. “Hey, you can't be back here...”

You falter as Futakuchi steps into the room, closing the door behind him. 

You stare at each other in silence until he moves towards you like he's going to touch you. “Wh-what are you doing?” 

His face looks intense. “I just want to...” He puts his hands either side of your face, he leans in like he's going to kiss you, his breath tickling your lips. He moves you back until you knock against the desk and he gets to his knees in front of you, his hands run up the outside of your legs before slipping under your skirt, moving up towards your hips. 

“Futakuchi.” You try to pull away from him, his grip becomes firm as he tips his head forward and rests his forehead against your lap. Your heart tugs painfully. Your voice softens “Kenji? Come on.” You go to move away from him again but he holds you in place. 

When you still he slips his fingers into the elastic of your underwear and pulls them down your thighs. You let out a gasp but before you can ask him what he thinks he's doing he glares up at you, eyes uncharacteristically wet. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you don't want me to.”

Your mouth works silently as a thousand emotions collide. You don't know what to say. You don't know.

When you say nothing he lets them fall to your ankles, lifting your foot for you, so you can step out of them before burying his face into your crotch. 

You let out a shocked moan and your knees go weak as you have to brace yourself against the desk, knocking things over as some of them roll to the floor. He hitches one of your knees over his shoulder so he can access more of you, pressing his tongue forcefully into you, You can't stop his name escaping your lips, he moans against you in return, cupping your backside and rocking your hips against his face as you dig your fingers into his hair. 

He slips is tongue out of you and goes to work on your clit, alternating between lapping forcefully at you with the flat of his tongue and circling the sensitive knot of nerve endings, occasionally sucking at you in a way that makes you feel light-headed. 

It's a surprise when he slips a finger into you, twisting his wrist just so as he thrusts it in and out of you, rubbing against your inner walls the same way he's done a thousand times before, he's always known how to give you what you like.

You throw your head back and moan deeply as the pressure in you builds, you run your fingers through his hair as he works, it's all so familiar. You've missed him so much. 

Your breathing quickens and you forget where you are, any attempts at being quiet forgotten as your focus narrows until there's nothing but your release. Losing yourself to your orgasm as it rocks your body, too wrapped up in the feeling to be conscious of much else.

He plants a final kiss against your clit making you jerk at the sensitivity, before letting you stand on your own two legs and sliding your skirt back down into place. 

Then he wraps his arms around your waist and clings to you in a way he's never done before and it brings you back to reality. You comb your fingers through his hair soothingly, it's getting so long. 

“Kenji?” A shrill shout from the hallway cuts through the silence and your fingers stop mid-motion, he becomes unnaturally still. Before either of you can say anything he releases you and heads for the door without looking back, he steps back out into the hall. “There you are! I wa-” 

The rest of the conversation is cut off from you as the door shuts behind him and you're left in silence. 

You don't know how long you stand there. When you start moving again the first thing you have to do is put your underwear back on. As you do, shame and confusion ripples through you and you can't stop yourself when the tears come. 

You pay them no mind as you pick up the things that had fallen to the floor and straighten the desk, doing your best to make it look like nothing ever happened. 

When you stop crying you check your reflection in the little mirror beside the door. Your eyes look swollen and your chest and neck are flushed pink from your orgasm. You just want to go home.

You head back to the bar to tell them you're leaving, desperately trying not to look at that table, just to be confronted by a concerned looking Matsukawa. Your heart sinks again. You can't do this. 

He gives you a sad sort of smile, “Maybe next time?”

You fight the urge to cry again as you wonder if he knows what just happened or if he can just tell by looking at you that you're going to turn him down. 

“Sorry.” Your voice cracks a little. He gives you the sad smile again and offers you a little wave before heading for the front doors to carry on with the rest of his night. You grab your bag from the break room and, for the first time in years, you run home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who reached the end of this one, thank you so much! This Matsukawa will be getting his own one shot soon I promise, I just wanted to experiment a little with character crossovers. I know I said it was going to be about the sex but this one kind of morphed into being about the relationships instead so I appreciate anyone who bears with me on this lol


	6. Futakuchi's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a huge break in format, really only of interest to anyone who read chapter 5 and has any lingering interest in how it played out from Futakuchi's point of view. For everyone else, apologies! I'll try and get a new One Shot out in the next couple of days :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to get across in this that Futakuchi is not a villain in this situation, he's just an insecure guy dealing very poorly with the end of a failing relationship. I hope I did that some justice.

The Morning After  
\----------------

Waking happens slowly. 

At first, it's just an uncomfortably sharp light stabbing into the peaceful darkness he's currently immersed in, then he notices the vice that's apparently attempting to squeeze his brain out of his skull, finally he becomes aware of something deliciously cool jabbing repeatedly at his face.

He opens his eyes and immediately regrets it, clamping them closed again and bringing a hand up to cover his face, the movement setting off a deeply unpleasant wave of nausea. 

“Finally awake, are you?”

He looks up into the face of his soon-to-be-married friend. Deeply, deeply confused. “Where am I?”

His friend passes him the cold bottle of water he'd been poking at him with. “Seeing as you survived the night, I can leave now, yeah?”

His head feels stuffed with cotton, what happened? “Did I call you?”

His friend snorts a laugh, “You really overdid it, huh?” He checks his phone before slipping it back into his pocket, concerned about the lack of battery life remaining. “Some girl called and said she'd found you passed out in the hallway so I came.” 

Futakuchi's eyebrows knit together in confusion, “Really?” Weird.

His friend stands and makes his way to the front door, eager to be off. “I left your key on the kitchen counter, call me later when you're back with the land of the living.” He waves a hand over his shoulder and let's himself out of the apartment. 

Futakuchi drags himself upright, unscrewing the bottle lid and drinking it down greedily, his mouth feels like a desert. 

He forces himself to stand, making his way to the bathroom, shedding crumpled clothes as he goes. A shower will help.

He stands under the shower head until he feels more human again, only stepping out once the hot water had run cool. He grabs a towel and scrubs at his face with it. 

When he glances up at the mirror, his eye is immediately drawn to the deep purple marks that dust his neck and down his chest. Shit. Memories of the night before flicker into his mind, the stag do, his irritation, the drinking, the hostess... what was her name again? 

He grits his teeth. Stupid. He pushes it aside, unwilling to dwell on it. The marks would fade in a couple of days, he'd just have to keep them covered until then.

He wraps the towel around himself and heads to the kitchen in search of more water. He grabs a glass, filling it at the tap, before resting his hip against the sink as he drinks it down. 

That's when he notices the colourful key sat on the counter beside him. Her key. His head throbs painfully, “Hello to you too, handsome.”

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck. She'd been here. 

He takes a deep inhale. It's ok, maybe she didn't see. He woke up dressed, after all. She would've stayed, the vicious voice of reason whispers in the back of his mind, she would have stayed. 

He grabs his phone to call her but it won't connect. He tries to push down his panic, grasping onto what he could remember of last night. 

He'd already been deep into his cups by the time they'd reached the hostess club entrance. There, they had bumped into a guy he sort of knew from the bar, he was an odd guy but relatively harmless, someone who could be humoured and then turned away with little fuss. 

He'd greeted Fuktakuchi and asked if he'd be heading over there tonight, when told no he'd started some mundane chatter about his evening before he'd said something that had caught everyone's attention. On his way out, he said he'd seen 'a barmaid at it in the alley with one of the musicians'.

Futakuchi's stomach turned over. He'd laughed hollowly as the guys had all made lewd jokes and then he'd made his excuses, telling everyone to go ahead he just had to make a quick call. 

When she wouldn't answer the phone his concern had turned to anger. He'd shoved the phone into his pocket and headed into the club, immediately ordering a bottle of something expensive for the table. He wasn't going to let her ruin his night. 

He'd tried a few more times throughout the night, and every unanswered call just left him angrier. 

He'd been liberal with his spending, which lead to one hostess in particular taking a liking to him, and although he'd only humoured her at first, the more he'd drunk, the better her attentions had felt and when she'd insinuated she was free for the night, he'd taken her up on it. Setting his phone to divert all incoming calls to his answer phone. Let's see how she likes it. 

The journey to the hotel was a blur, but he remembered the rest all too clearly. The naked stranger grinding on top of him as he'd failed to get hard, far too drunk to be of any use. The embarrassment and shame he'd felt after as she'd tried to be nice about it. His dismissal of her was biting as he'd made his way down to the hotel bar and drunk until the barman had refused to serve him any more and called him a taxi. 

“Hello to you too, handsome.” Her voice echoes in his mind as he holds his phone pressed against his forehead in a white knuckle grip. What had he done?

He tries to tell himself that he wouldn't have gone through with it, even if he could've, he would have come to his senses before then. Liar, the little voice whispers again. He ignores it. If he can just convince her of it then he can undo this whole mess and things will be fine. He heads into the bedroom to get dressed.

When he gets to her apartment block, he takes the steps two at a time until he reaches her floor, wasting no time before knocking urgently on the door. When there's no answer he calls out to her, begging her, if she's there, to just open the door and he can explain. 

He causes enough of a fuss that one of the neighbours calls the building manager, the older man appearing to tell him he has to leave the property. 

Unsure of what else to do he sits down on the curb and calls her again, still nothing. He brings up her social pages and is alarmed to find all of them unavailable to him. 

He racks his brain for who he can ask to get her to call him, his friends can't do it and the only people he knows in her life are all from the bar.. the bar!

He checks the time, it's still early but maybe. 

When he gets there, he's alarmed to find she's not only not there, but they don't know when she'll be back. That's when he notices that, even if she isn't there, Matsukawa is. Fury builds up as the source of all his problems stares blankly at him. 

As he starts to raise his voice the fat Russian appears from the office, he marches directly up to Futakuchi, chubby finger stabbing in his direction. “You are reason for this?” When Futakuchi had refused to give him an answer the man had shaken his head angrily, “Leave. You are not welcome here tonight.” So, he'd left. 

The week that had followed had been hard. 

He'd never heard back from her and, as the silence had stretched on, his anger had turned into something brooding and ugly. 

He can't believe she'd do something like this to him, she hadn't even cared enough to let him explain. He bets that it was her out in that alley after all, it hadn't just been drunken paranoia. He'd known this was going to happen since the day that guy had shown up out of nowhere, constantly hovering around her. 

He saw the way Matsukawa had looked at her from the very beginning. He'd done his best to drop hints, to warn the guy off, but he hadn't listened, choosing to play dumb instead. And then, she'd refused to discourage him, even going as far to defend him from any kind of criticism, always taking that guys side over his own. 

He'd caught him once checking her out as she'd been changing a keg, his eyes roaming over her as she worked, he'd said something to her, she'd looked over her shoulder at him and laughed as she responded. It had made him feel sick to his stomach. Suddenly drowning in the realisation that maybe it wasn't one sided after all. How could she? 

She'd never given him a key to her place either, he reasons later, or ever pushed for them to tell anyone about their relationship. She'd wanted it private after all, and now he knew why. 

After a week of barely leaving his apartment, he finally agrees to meet up with his friends on Saturday night. He'd almost backed out when he got to the restaurant and the hostess and her friend had been sat with them, apparently still interested in him even after... 

Then he'd almost bailed again when, after the meal, they'd headed without question towards the bar, the hostess squealing about how much she just loved live music. He hadn't though, he'd gone along with them, unable to think of a way to say no without raising suspicion and too afraid to let her go there without him to keep an eye on things.

When the door had swung open, he'd seen her immediately. Relief had quickly turned to anger though when she'd been smiling, looking like nothing was wrong when he'd been in hell all week because she couldn't be bothered to pick up her damn phone. 

He felt his voice get stiff and sharp, forcing it a little too hard as he tried to tell a joke to the girls, who still laughed along obediently. See, he thought, I'm fine too.

When they'd taken their booth, he'd purposely chosen a seat that he could see her from, he'd taken a chance and put his arm around the hostess, she was eager and it was an easy thing to do. His mind on nothing else but wanting to make her know how it feels to be jealous. 

But when he had chanced a look at the bar, she was gone. Then, when he'd seen her return from the back with Matsukawa it had felt like all his suspicions had been confirmed, especially when every time she looked his way she barely reacted. He was shocked by how little she cared. He realised he was grinding his teeth. 

Then he'd had to watch as they flirted shamelessly in front of the everyone. Unable to take it, he'd purposely interrupted them and their little game, a feeling of satisfaction washing over him as all the blood had drained from her face when she realised she'd been caught in the act. 

He'd returned to his seat feeling satiated in the fact she did feel guilty, so he'd been shocked to look up and realise that they were still talking. That guy really couldn't take a hint. Then he'd watched in horror as his worst nightmare had unfolded right in front of him, he'd seen him ask her something, she'd looked at her watch before nodding, they talked a little more before she took out the till drawer and headed towards the office. He'd looked at Matsukawa closely, he was smiling. 

No, no, no, no. She's going to leave with him. He knows it. And if she goes home with him then it's all done. This can't really be done, can it?

His feet are moving before he really thinks it through. He slips into the office. 

“Hey you can't be back here-”

She's right in front of him, she looks at him like he's a stranger and he feels his heart break. It's me, his mind screams, don't look at me that way. He wants to kiss her but she'll push him away, he knows it, it has to be more.

Her lips are so close that it's hard to pull away, but he does, he can't let her refuse him. 

He drops to his knees. He wants to remind her that she's his, she can't be anyone else's.

She tries to move away but he can't let her, he presses his forehead against her lap. Please, please. She won't, he knows it.

He looks up at her, challenging, “Tell me you don't want me to.” Tell me you don't want me, he thinks. 

She doesn't. He can still save this. 

He does it just the way she likes it. When she whispers his name he's so happy he could cry. More, he has to give more. 

Her hands are in his hair and he knows he has her back. She's mine, he thinks, she's always been mine. 

She climaxes and he's happy, pulling her skirt down before wrapping his arms around her. It's going to be ok, with enough time, he can fix everything.

The illusion shatters in a second. 

"Kenji!"

No, no, no, no, no. 

Panic shoots through him. He has to get her to shut up, they can't meet. 

He leaves. 

He closes the door behind him, cutting off her chatter as he grabs her arm and drags her back towards their seats. 

On the way passed the bar, he sees Matsukawa leaning against the wall, eyes on the hallway. He can't resist, he just wants him gone. He snaps at him as he passes, “She's made her choice.” 

Matsukawa looks calmly between him and the girl with him, “It looks like you have, too.”

They stare each other down for a second before Futakuchi hears his name being called from their booth. He returns to his table and watches as she turns the other man down, seeing him leave alone and dejected. He smiles. 

It'll be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maaaaan it is HARD to tell stories with multiple side characters that you don't want to name lol. I try to leave the other people in these stories nameless and vague because I'm not looking to create OC's here and want to leave the details broad so it works easier with the normal 'self-insert' format. It gets a little clunky though so I'm sorry if that bothers anyone!


	7. One Week - Matsukawa Issei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An immediate continuation from Futakuchi's chapters.
> 
> A lot can happen in a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I am posting this at 3am because it has taken me so long to get this done. It's a beast. I have no excuse. I just love Mattsun. I'm not even done with it, I wanted to add another day, maybe two, but it's already long enough to put off most people so I refrained lol

Sunday  
\---------

You wake alone in bed, eyes sore and head pounding. It feels like the weight of the world is sitting on your chest. You make yourself look at the time, it's already midday. You sigh and drag yourself to the shower.

Your walk to work is quicker than usual, your mood only becoming more sullen having been caught out by the unusually cold weather, stopping only long enough to grab yourself a sandwich from the station as you pass.

You let yourself into the building, pointedly ignoring the office door. You drop your bag onto the stage before hopping up to sit on the edge of it so you can unwrap your breakfast. 

The boss emerges from the back, making his way towards you. His tone, when he speaks, uncharacteristically casual. “You are well, yes?”

You eye him suspiciously, “What's up, Boss?”

He throws his hands up, already exasperated. “I try to be nice and see what I get!”

He's not fooling you, “What's up, Boss?”

He runs a meaty hand over his head before deciding to come clean. “Ok, I may, MAY, have forgotten that I promised the children they could have their little lock-in tonight.” You smile at his use of 'children' to refer to the other staff, a habit you find both patronising and endearing in equal measure. “However,” he continues, his switch to a formal tone jarring, “I am unable to attend and they cannot be left unsupervised with my stock.”

You fight the urge to groan, you really don't think you have it in you to play party chaperone today, you narrow your eyes at him, “And you can't attend because...?”

“Prior engagement with the sandman.” he says without a hint of shame, it's past his bed time. “You can have tomorrow off as thanks.”

You both know full well that the bar isn't open Mondays. Whatever, why not. “Sunday. I want next Sunday off.” He grumbles something in Russian and heads back to his office. You take it as a yes. 

There's no live music on Sundays so you're surprised to see Matsukawa show up late into the evening. He waits by the till, wallet in hand. He mentions in passing that he thought he'd call in for a quick drink on his way home, you find that you're curious about where he could have been until now, then chide yourself for being nosey. 

“You're not staying for the lock in, then?” You ask, a little disappointed. 

He looks confused, “The what?”

You explain that after closing the staff will be having a few drinks and generally enjoying the run of the place while you play parent. You end it with a shrug, “It's free booze?” 

You can't say you aren't pleased when he decides to stay. 

Once the doors are locked everyone is in high spirits. You decide to stay on bar duty in lieu of them having free reign, watching bemused as they struggle to set up the mic stand on stage before taking it in turns to sing along with the music being pumped through the sound system. 

Matsukawa stays in his favourite seat, you find yourself returning to his end of the bar whenever no one else needs anything. You're watching as the newest member of staff is encouraged up on stage, you can see him shaking from here, poor thing. 

Matsukawa nods towards the stage, curious, “You aren't going to have a go?” 

“Me?” You ask, incredulous, before laughing, “I wouldn't know what to do once I was up there.” 

His eyebrows pull together a little and he gives you a thoughtful look. Just as you're about to ask what's wrong you hear a chorus of groans as the newbie bolts for the toilets, hand covering his mouth. You sigh, children indeed, before following to check on him. 

It's nearly 3am before you finally convince the last one to leave. Matsukawa is good enough to stay and help you clear the floor and stage of anything that would impede the cleaners tomorrow. You may also have finished off an open bottle of spirits between you as you worked, leaving you with a pleasant warmth in your belly and a slightly fuzzy head. 

He watches as it takes you two attempts to successfully lock the door as you're leaving. “I'll walk you home.”

You're barely two streets away before you start to shiver, the cold biting through your clothing with little effort. He looks at you sideways, “You want my coat?”

You refuse because then he'll be cold but he starts to take it off anyway, unwilling to take your no for an answer. You make an ill judged grab for his hand, trying to stop him from unzipping it but you stumble awkwardly and pain shoots up your leg as you roll your ankle off of the curb. You catch yourself on his arm and squeeze, trying your best to bite down on every swear word you have in your vocabulary.

When he sees it hurts to put weight on it he sighs and crouches down in front of you, offering you his back. He can't be serious, you haven't had a piggyback since you were a child. “Oh,” he stands and slips his bomber jacket off, wrapping it around your shoulders, he rubs his hands up and down your arms a couple of times to warm you before crouching again, “let's go.”

You slip your arms into the sleeves, it smells of him, “What about you?” it really is cold tonight. 

“You'll keep me warm.” he says it so matter of factly that you know it's stupid to read into it but still, something about it feels nice to hear, and when he's got you in a comfortable position, you do your best to wrap the open jacket around him too.

You're surprised to find that you're already halfway home before either of you speaks. It's strange, you think, normally you find silence kind of unbearable, but not so much when you're around him, the quiet always seems comfortable in his presence.

He looks back at you over his shoulder, “Hey, can you hand me a smoke?”

You can't resist the opportunity to tease him, “Anything for my faithful steed.” It's at that moment he decides to bounce you gracelessly under the guise of getting a better grip on you, making you laugh out of the sheer fear of being dropped.

You feel around in the pockets and find his cigarette packet, it's awkward to open one handed but you manage, finding the lighter tucked neatly inside. Unsure of a better way to do it, you put one between your lips and then light it, sliding the pack back into the pocket before leaning forwards so you can see his face and holding it up to his lips. He hesitates before he takes it, thanking you as it hangs loosely from his lip, exhaling the smoke through his nose. 

The booze has left you sleepy so you rest your chin on his shoulder, unable to stop the giant yawn that escapes you. He's so warm. You have to fight the urge to fall asleep.

When your apartment block comes into view, all the good feelings start to seep out of you, leaving you melancholic as you think about how you felt being there this morning. 

You press your forehead against his shoulder, “I don't want to go home.”

He pauses in his stride, his voice level, “Really?”

You nod your head against his back, you know you're acting like a petulant child but you can't help it.

There's a moment of quiet before he responds, simply. “Ok.”

He changes direction and keeps walking. You can feel yourself falling asleep properly now. You keep asking him if he's tired, convinced he must be by now, but he keeps telling you it's fine and you have little choice but to believe him. 

He stops outside of an old house, he looks over his shoulder at you. “We're going to have to be quiet, ok?”

Oh, you think, your mind clouded by sleep, he lives here. “You have housemates?”

“Two.” He nods, “One guy was already here when I moved in. The other... well, the other one's an idiot, but they're both good people.” You cling to him as he slips his key into the door, “I'm not sure who's home right now though.”

Inside, he places you gently down onto the step of the genkan. His house smells of, what you can only describe as, boy. It's a nostalgic mix of deodorant, tiger balm, socks and smoke. It reminds you of your teenage years back in your home town.

He undoes his boots and slips them off before crouching down to untie your shoes. You start to argue but he hushes you to be quiet, so you do. He picks you back up and heads to the back of the house. 

His room is messy but not dirty. There's posters on the walls, an amp in the corner, a large set of weights sits at the end of the unmade single bed pressed up against the back wall, and there are music magazines and a couple of ashtrays scattered about on the low table in the centre of the room. It's also, you notice, freezing. 

He turns the bedside lamp on as he sets you on the edge of the bed and kneels down to look at your ankle, his fingers prod at the sore bit but you assure him it feels better than it did. He goes over to a dresser and digs out a t-shirt and what look like basketball shorts, he hands them to you, “They're clean, I promise. I'll be back now.” 

He leaves you to change clothes, you take a moment to sniff the shirt, it smells like washing powder. You wonder why that disappoints you. You sit back down on the bed, the house is so cold you can see the faint fog of your breath when you exhale. 

When he gets back he apologises, they've been having problems with the heating for weeks but it's not working at all tonight. You try to listen but you're falling asleep sat up. He seems to be worried about your shivering. 

He takes off his sweatshirt, before turning away to take off his trousers. He climbs into the bed wearing his t-shirt and boxers, pressing his back flat against the wall, he lifts the blanket and opens his arms. 

You don't hesitate.

You lie down facing away from him, his right arm under your neck. He wraps the blanket around you, pinning it in place with the weight of his other arm. He feels tense but he's so warm. You don't remember falling asleep. 

Monday  
\----------

When you wake, you can see daylight peaking through the crack in the curtains, but thankfully the room is still pleasantly dim. The air is frigid and your nose, especially, feels impossibly cold. 

When you bury yourself deeper into the blanket you find yourself pressed up against an unfamiliar body. You freeze, remembering where you are. You can hear gentle snoring coming from behind you as you become fully aware of your closeness.

His right arm is still under your neck, your cheek pressed against the bare skin of his bicep, and your retreat from the cold has pressed you bodily against the full length of him. He feels solid, and warm. 

You rub your foot against your leg, trying to coax some warmth into them while quietly relishing in the feel of him wrapped around you. You nestle your face against the crook of his arm, inhaling his scent. You like it. 

You try to readjust, moving your hips a little, when you feel something press against the small of your back.

You still, clamping down on the nervous giggle that threatens to bubble up as your face takes on an embarrassed heat. You try to think of anything else but you can't, you quickly become uncomfortably warm, feeling the need to try and shift position, only to press against his morning hard-on again. 

You freeze when you feel the muscles in his arm tense and you notice he's not snoring anymore. Neither of you speak. 

Excitement builds unexpectedly in the pit of your stomach. Before you can think too much about it, you roll your hips against him again and stay there.

Your heart is pounding. When you realise he might think you're asleep you start to internally freak out, suddenly unsure of what you're trying to achieve. So, you stay still. 

He moves his body away slightly, slipping his free arm between your bodies to block the contact. You're instantly embarrassed, it feels like you've just thrown yourself at him and he's rejected you.

Then, you notice how much his breathing has sped up, and how you can feel his bicep softly tensing against your cheek. You want more.

You roll your shoulders back against him, settling your back flush against his torso, waiting to see if he reciprocates. He presses his forehead against the back of your head, his breath is warm and damp on the back of your neck yet you still feel goosebumps spread across your skin like wildfire. Your nipples harden and an uncomfortable throb settles between your legs. 

You both lie there a while, neither moving or speaking, there's only strained breathing and a desperate attempt at self control. Then you feel his hips move, unable to resist anymore, desperate for the friction, and it bubbles over for you and you can't stop yourself.

You rock back, grinding rhythmically against him. His breath hitches as you turn your face towards him in the dark, you want him to know that you want him to do it. He presses his nose into your hair and inhales deeply, rocking his hips to meet you.

After a minute he can't help himself, he reaches for your hips, desperate for more. You automatically flinch away from his touch, he stills and guilt tears through you. You push back against him again, you don't want him to stop but you're scared to go further. You're confused but you need... something... from him. 

When he's slow to respond, lust gets the better of you. You tip your head back against his shoulder, breathing hard, you open your legs and slip your hand into your shorts, slipping a finger either side of your clit before clamping your legs shut again. 

As you rock back against him you grind against your hand. When a soft moan escapes you, he realises what you're doing and lust shoots through him. 

The arm under your neck flexes wildly before it moves, wrapping around you and pulling you tight against his chest, his right hand now flat against your stomach pinning you in place as he takes himself in his free hand and matches your pace, thrusting into his fist. You can feel your nipple rub against his wrist as he moans against your neck and you know you want to feel him on you.

You pull your top up so he's touching bare skin, his thumb brushing against the under side of your breast, you hold his wrist firmly in place, relishing the contact. You turn your mouth onto his arm as you pant into the quiet as you pleasure yourselves, your teeth pressing against his bicep. It all feels so good.

He growls the word 'fuck' into your ear as you both build to your climaxes and your toes curl.

You're both too warm, you can feel sweat forming on your chest and brow as he holds you as close to him as possible. You glance over your shoulder, he's so close that your cheek is almost touching his when you look to him. 

He's right there, you think. If you kiss him right now you could have more, he could be inside you and you could be filled by him, lost in him. 

You release his wrist and lift your hand to his jaw, you coax him towards you, you lick your lips as you breathe in the shared air. He's so close.

As you're about to press your lips to his, the door swings open and a tall guy with light coloured cropped hair walks in, yawning, hands shoved down the sides of his boxer shorts. 

“ Mattsuuuun make breakfast already, it's your turn.” You sit bolt upright in bed and stare at him. He gawks at you for a second before whipping both hands out of his underwear. He leans on the doorframe, one hand on his hip, seemingly aiming for suave. “Well, hello there.”

“Makki.” Matsukawa's warning tone is practically a growl from his place in the bed, hands covering his face in frustration.

“Yeah?” he answers casually, clearly not taking the hint. Matsukawa glares at him. 

“Oh,”, realisation seems to dawn, “right, I'll go then.” he leaves the way he came.

There's a heavy silence between you, both of you seemingly frozen in place after the sudden intrusion. “Listen,” he starts, but he doesn't get to finish as the door swings open again and a, now, familiar face peers around it.

“You're still making breakfast though, yeah?” 

Matsukawa is incredulous. “Makki, I swear..” 

“Fine, I'm gone!” You think you can hear him pouting. 

You turn to look down at Matsukawa, “The idiot roommate, I take it?” 

He groans loudly in frustration but it quickly turns into laughter, and once you both start, it's hard to stop. 

Once it peters off you ask where the bathroom is. Once up there you close the door behind you and press your back to it. Your hand clamping over your mouth as you try not to freak out. What were you thinking? You think of how he sounded as he fucked his hand against you and you shiver. You do your best to shake it off.

After much debate they decide on breakfast, Matsukawa disappearing into the kitchen and leaving you sat on the floor, opposite a seemingly unfazed Makki, after being convinced by the pair of them to stay for food.

You want to be mad at him but, the more he chatters, the harder it gets. You can't put your finger on why but he feels like a good fit for Matsukawa. Breakfast with them is surprisingly fun.

“So,” Makki gestures between the pair of you, “how do you two know each other?”

Matsukawa glances your way but doesn't answer so you take the initiative. “We work together.” You state simply. 

He nods blandly until something flickers behind his eyes, “Oh?” he looks at Matsukawa who shakes his head almost imperceptibly, “Ooooh.” He nods more enthusiastically now. 

You don't understand what you missed but you decide it's none of your business. “How about you two?”

“School friends.” Matsukawa offers. 

“We were on the volleyball team together.” Makki adds, proudly.

“Really?” You can't help but be shocked, you look closer at the man smoking opposite you. You think about how long he'd carried you for last night without complaint, and this morning he'd felt so sturdy when... 

You feel your cheeks start to warm as you look at him for a little too long, trying not to imagine what he looks like under his t-shirt.

After breakfast you say your goodbyes, Matsukawa insists on walking you at least part of the way. You stroll together through the streets, quiet and comfortable. 

When you decide it's far enough you turn to face him. “Before I go, about before, I'm sorry-”

“Please don't be.” You don't think he's ever cut you off before. “ We're both adults, we weren't hurting anyone,” he tries to fight the smile that pulls at his lips, “and it was pretty hot to be honest.” He looks embarrassed but not ashamed.

You give a relieved laugh. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you nod slowly, your eyebrows raised, “Yeah it kinda was.” Your face warms but for once it's not a bad feeling. You share a smile and something flutters in your stomach. 

“Really, though,” he reiterates the point, “please don't worry about me thinking of you differently or anything like that. As long as you're ok, we're ok.”

You realise you believe him, it's just as easy as that. He's always upfront with you, you hadn't realised how comforting that could be.

You step forward and stand on your toes, kissing him on the cheek before meeting his eye. “You're good people, Matsukawa Issei.” You step away from him and towards home, offering him one more smile. “See ya.”

He doesn't turn back for home until you're long out of sight.

Tuesday  
\----------

You're two hours into the night shift before you realise that someone is missing from his regular place at the bar. You find yourself staring at the empty stool repeatedly throughout the night, kicking yourself for not getting his number. It's unlike him to just no-show. 

Your last thought before you fall asleep that night is that you hope he's ok.

Wednesday  
\--------------

When you arrive for your shift you're relieved to see him back in his rightful place, his back to you as he scrolls through his phone. You approach him to say hello and notice a large kit bag sat at his feet. Your stomach drops. 

“Going on a trip?” You try to keep your tone light. 

He looks up at you, eyebrows raised, his face breaks into a smile when he sees it's you. Your stomach flutters.

“I wish.” He looks back down at his phone. “The landlord's finally decided to do something about the boiler.” He's pleased but it means they've all been kicked out for a few days while the whole system is replaced. “I can't afford to miss work so I'm looking for somewhere to crash, it might have to be a hostel at this rate.”

“If you don't mind sleeping on a sofa, you're welcome to stay at mine.” The offer is out of your mouth before you've really thought it through, it just seems like a simple fix. 

He looks up at you, surprised. He thinks about it for a second before nodding, “Yeah, ok, if you're sure.”

With that settled, you start your shift. 

After warning him that you do not cook and he won't be able to find actual food at your place, you decide to pick something up to eat on your way home. 

You let yourself into the apartment, dropping your keys on the side before putting the hot food down on the low table near your sofa. He steps through the doorway and looks around, curious. You turn the TV on and leave it running while you give him the 'tour'. 

Your living area is open plan so the kitchen is obvious, you point at the balcony door “It's always unlocked so you can smoke whenever,” You head over to the bathroom and turn the light on, “Bathroom.” you point at your bedroom door, “My room, I'll grab you some bedding after we eat”. You drop yourself heavily onto the floor, cross legged, leaning back against the sofa as you open the food cartons. “There's a laundromat down the road if you need anything washed, I can show you tomorrow.” 

He hovers, unsure, in the middle of the room, holding his bag awkwardly in front of himself, he looks reluctant to touch anything. You worry he's regretting his decision. You hold up a carton of rice for him, “Shall we?”

He lays his bag carefully to one side and settles down near you. You make conversation while you eat and he slowly returns to his usual self. You ask about Makki, who's headed back home for the week, you ask about where he's from, what it's like there. When he asks in return, he seems surprised to find you're a country girl, he asks if you ever get homesick.

“Sometimes,” You concede. You think about how nice it had been to be back there when you'd visited last week, you could never move back permanently, you know that, but that doesn't stop you missing the little things. “Like, with this cold snap, they'll have the kotatsu out by now.” Some of your fondest memories involve that old thing.

Matsukawa nods thoughtfully, “My grandmother used to have one.” 

After you finish eating he grabs his cigarettes and heads out onto the balcony, where he watches as you help yourself to a handful of wrapped chocolates out of the bowl on the table and stuff them into the hollow of your lap, seemingly without thought. 

A few minutes after he sits back down you grab one of the chocolates and eat it without comment. 

“Uhhh,” He looks confused, you look at him questioningly, “what's with the chocolates?” 

You look down into your lap, “Oh, they're better soft. Here.” You drop one into the palm of his hand. He looks at you for a second like you're joking, when you don't react, he unwraps it and pops it into his mouth. It's warm. “Well?”

He shifts a little in his seat as his mouth twitches like he wants to smile, his cheeks turn a darker shade and. when he looks at you, you don't miss the way his eyes linger on your crotch before he meets your eye, he nods, slowly. “It's good.” 

You feel your cheeks get warm and he looks away, scrubbing a hand over his face like he's trying to force the smile away. You stand awkwardly and it rains chocolates onto the floor. You choose to ignore them. You head for the fridge instead, your voice wound too tight. “Beer?” 

He nods into his hand without looking your way. “Sure.”

An hour later and you're lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. 

You can't stop thinking about him. It's just because of the other morning, you reason, you never got your release, of course you're easily flustered right now. You think of the vibrator in the bedside drawer but you're afraid he might hear it. 

Although, you think, that might be kind of hot too. You push it away, annoyed with yourself for even thinking it. You drag your pillow over your head and try to fall asleep. 

Thursday  
\------------

You wake to the sound of the toilet flushing. You stretch and yawn, trying to wake up. You've never been a morning person. 

You stumble into the living area looking a little worse for wear. Your hair is more than questionable, one of your pyjama bottom legs has ridden up to your knee and you can't stop yawning. 

The balcony door is open and Matsukawa is out there smoking. He turns to say good morning and you're annoyed to see that he looks like his usual self, apparently mornings suit him.

His eyes flick to your chest before he forces them away. “Sorry, I'm letting all the cold air in.” He slides the door closed and turns away, leaning heavily on the railing, shaking his head, as he inspects the ground below. 

You fold your arms over your chest self consciously. Maybe you'll get dressed then.

You return to the sound of him opening and closing your cupboard doors. “Wow. You really weren't kidding about never cooking, huh?” He's inspecting the disorganised junk food that litters every other cupboard. “You got food allergies?”

You hop up to sit on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs mindlessly, “Nah, just lazy.” He huffs a laugh and opens the fridge. There's only drinks in it, most of them beer. He gives you a look. You shrug. “I warned you.”

You decide to grab food together on the way into work instead. 

That night at the bar, after packing the equipment away at the end of his shift, he wanders over to you with a handful of something, he holds them out for you to look at. “Can I take these back to yours with me?”

You narrow your eyes at him, suddenly unsure, “Are those zip ties?”

He nods, “Yes.”

You think about it. “Is that all we have left?”

“No.” 

“Do you have a reason?”

His face is a blank slate, “Yes.”

You squint suspiciously at him, “Does it end in my murder?”

His expression doesn't change. “No.”

Fair enough. You shrug. “Sure.”

You're on until closing so you tell him to take the keys from your bag. “Just leave the door unlocked, I'll try to be as quiet as I can when I get home.” 

You're only half surprised when, upon leaving that night, you find him outside waiting for you. You say goodbye to the rest of the staff and head over to him, he shrugs without you needing to ask, “It's late.” 

You smile. You decide you like walking home together. 

When you get in the door the first thing you notice is how good the place smells. You realise he's been cooking. You head into the kitchen, surprised to find actual food knocking about the place. He also went shopping.

You look at him, “You didn't have to do this, you know?”

He scoffs a laugh, “Yes I did, not everyone can survive on sugar alone, you know?” You have to concede it's a fair point. He continues, “It's not the best bit though.”

He heads into the living area and does a 'ta-dah' action. You look down at your newly modified table and try to work out what on earth he's done. On closer inspection it appears that he's frankenstein-ed you a kotatsu. Awkwardly zip tying a couple of blankets to the underside of the table, 

He urges you to sit under it, and to your surprise it's actually warm. You risk a peak underneath the covers just to be confronted with your repurposed chocolate bowl that's currently over flowing with disposable hand warmers instead of a heating element. 

You look up at him speechless, he starts to fidget, “You don't like it?”

It is the ugliest, shoddiest thing you have ever seen in your life. “I love it.” You answer honestly. It might be the most thoughtful thing anyone's ever done for you.

He gives you a smile that makes you audibly swallow. Huh. 

He heads back to the kitchen to grab the food. The food he cooked for you both. You look down at the table, your fingers running over the edge of the blanket. You cover your mouth, unsure why you feel like you could cry. You shake it off before he returns.

After what is undeniably the best meal you've had in ages, you make him stay put as you take the dishes to the kitchen to wash up. You look over at him sat under the table watching the TV as you clean up, it's all so comfortable. You don't know what to do with that.

You head to the bathroom and on your way back he's heading out onto the balcony for a smoke. “I'm stealing your warm spot!” You shout through the glass door as you make yourself comfortable, resting your head on the sofa as you practically lie down under the table.

When he returns you expect him to take your spot on the other side of the table, instead he drops down heavily beside you and goes back to watching the TV without a word. You become extremely aware of how close he is, you can even see when he starts to get goosebumps as the cold sets in. 

You lift your part of the blanket, offering to share. He looks down at you and your heart rate rockets, you see him look at your lips, you think he might kiss you. 

You're surprised how disappointed you are when he doesn't. He looks away at the last second before slipping under the blanket next to you. He chucks his cigarette packet onto the table, grabbing one of the loose chocolates now scattered across it. 

It isn't long before you're starting to fall asleep. You're just too comfortable to fight it. He lets you lean against him as you try to delay heading to bed. It's been a good night.

You rest your head on his shoulder and sigh contentedly. You feel him press his cheek to the top of your head. You look up at him, this time he doesn't pull away. 

He presses his lips softly against yours, hesitant at first, his hand comes up to cup your cheek and you lean into it. His tongue pushes slowly into your mouth and electricity runs through your veins. You moan softly into his mouth. He kisses you again, deeply, before pulling away from you. 

Kissing your lips once more, he smiles down at you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “You're tired, you should go to bed.”

He says it kindly but you still feel confused, you'd thought he'd want you to stay. You swallow it down though, he's been good to you, you don't have any right to complain. “Ok.” You say quietly. He kisses you once more before you stand and head to your room.

You don't know how long it's been but you know you're still awake and nowhere near actual sleep. You run your fingers across your lips, thoughts full of him. You feel so unsure. You don't want to leave it like this.

You pad barefoot back out to the pitch black living area. You whisper, “Matsukawa?”

“I'm awake.” His answer is immediate, he sounds as awake as you feel. 

“Can I stay out here with you tonight?”

He doesn't speak, just lifts the blanket and opens his arms. You don't hesitate this time either. Slipping comfortably back into the warmth of him. He holds you like he did before and it pulls your feelings in a hundred directions. 

After a little while you speak up. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” 

You smile into the darkness at his sincerity. “Why didn't you want me to stay with you earlier?” 

He squeezes you tightly for a second, “It's not that I didn't want you to,” He says, quickly. “But last time we... I got carried away and you.. you didn't seem ready for that,.. with me.” His speech is halting and awkward, but genuine. You think back to how you'd flinched away from his touch. He continues, “I didn't want to do that to you again.”

You lay together in the silence. Your eyes start to sting and you swallow down a lump in your throat. You decide to be honest, he deserves it. “If I told you about what happened with...” You find it's easier not to say his name. “..everything, would you listen?”

You feel him kiss the back of your head, his arm moving to stroke your hair. “Of course.”

So you do. You tell him everything. The good, the bad, the end. He just lays with you, listening. He's the first person you've ever told any of it to and you hadn't known how much you needed to get it off of your chest. Even when you start to cry as you explain what had happened that night at the bar, he never falters, continuing to stroke your hair, calm and steady as always. 

You don't know when you fall asleep, but when you do, it's deep and unbroken.

Saturday  
\----------

You wake to the smell of breakfast being cooked. You lie there and listen to the sound of him moving around the kitchen. You curl in on yourself, pulling the blanket tighter around you as you rub your face into the pillow, inhaling deeply. It smells of him. You smile.

Your final shift of the week couldn't have gone better. Everyone showed up, the acts were decent, the mood was great, and you were finished for the week by 11 o'clock on a Saturday night. Perfection. 

You head for the doors with Matsukawa falling into step beside you. Once you get outside he pats his pockets looking for his phone and swears under his breath. “Wait here.”

You nod and move out the way of the doors, looking up at the sky, wondering if it's going to snow soon. An unexpected voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“So it's true then.”

You can't help it as you physically flinch at the accusation in his tone. You turn to face Futakuchi Kenji, standing with a man you don't know a few feet away. You can tell even from this distance that he's drunk. “Kenji...” you sound tired even to your own ear.

“Don't.” He practically bites off the word. “You don't get to call me that when you're fucking someone else.” His tone starts to rise and you glance around you, unwilling to attract attention in front of your work place. 

“I'm not-” He cuts you off again and you realise he isn't really interested in what you've got to say. He's just angry. It makes you sad to see it but you know you can't help him now. He needs someone who can listen, he needs a Matsukawa. 

“You're leaving with him! I, of all people, know what that means you're giving him.” His friend puts a hand on his shoulder but he shrugs it off angrily. 

You stare at him, “Is that really what you think of me?”

His mouth works for a second but he doesn't answer. You've had enough of this. You turn to walk away and he lunges to stop you.

As you look over your shoulder you hear the sound of skin hitting skin and you turn, alarmed, to see Matsukawa stepping between you and Futakuchi, he's gripping the drunk man's wrist, keeping his hand firmly away from you. 

You hold your breath as they stare at each other. 

Matsukawa speaks first. His tone harder and colder than you've ever heard it before. “If you, ever,” he stresses the word through gritted teeth, “touch her again without her permission, I'm going to hurt you.” 

Futakuchi's eyes go wide, as if he can't believe what he's heard. 

His friend isn't so shocked, he turns immediately defensive. “What the fuck did you say?” 

Matsukawa turns to look him flatly in the eye without releasing Futakuchi's wrist. “I'm going to hurt him.” There's something in his tone that puts away the idea of any more argument. 

Futakuchi snatches his arm out of his grip. You can see how red the skin is from here. He glares at you again but Matsukawa steps in front of you, still challenging. 

You look up at him and you feel your heart clench. He's always so good to you. You slip your hand into his where it hangs now by his side, he squeezes your hand once before keeping it firm in his grip. It gives you courage, makes you certain. You step around him, not letting go. 

You face Futakuchi head on, maybe for the first time since you met him, “I think you should leave Kenji.” 

And just like that, he does. He storms his way passed the handful of onlookers and away into the night. 

Matsukawa looks down at you, he puts his hand on your cheek and brushes a tear from it. He looks conflicted. His voice is soft, “Sorry.”

You shake your head, smiling despite the tears. “I'm not. Let's go home.”

The minute you step into the apartment it's clear something intangible has changed. You collapse onto the sofa and sigh, resting your head on the arm you look up at him, you hold out your hand. He takes it and sits beside where you lie.

You wait for him to look at you before pulling him down to kiss you. This time there's no hesitancy, he kisses you like he means it and it feels so right.

He turns his body to lay down beside you, pinning you in as he kisses you. You hook your leg over his as you run it up and down his thigh. You feel him start to grind against you in response. You shudder with anticipation. 

His hand runs down your waist and over your backside, he squeezes you firmly before slipping his hand behind your knee and pulling it up, running his hand along your bare thigh appreciatively. 

You moan into his mouth and his hips twitch in response. You want him. 

You pull at his t-shirt, running your hands underneath it and along his toned stomach. He exhales heavily through his nose before pulling himself closer to you, his grip biting into your thigh as he grinds against you. 

You break away from the kiss, panting as he automatically moves to your throat and chest. “Do you have any condoms?” 

He pulls back and looks at you, he searches your face for something before he nods. He stretches behind him and grabs for his kit bag, you take the opportunity to slide his shirt up, you swallow as you watch the muscles in his side ripple with the effort. 

You bare his chest to you and press your mouth against it, sucking hard, he hisses a little but it sounds like he enjoys the sting. You pull away, proud of the mark left there, you press a kiss to it. 

You meet his eye, he stares at your mouth for a moment before he's on you again. He's more forceful with you now. More certain. You can feel how hard he is as he pulls you against him, grinding against you with purpose now. 

You pull away to reach down between you and undo his trousers, he puts the condom packet between his teeth and tears it open. Both of you suddenly frantic in your movements, each of you desperate for the other. 

You hitch your skirt up to your hips as he puts the condom on, He beats you to it so there's no time to take off your underwear before he pulls your leg high again, his mouth against yours as he pulls the thin material to one side and presses the tip of his cock against your opening. 

He hesitates for only a second but it's enough to make you whine, you grip him closer with your thigh, your hand moving to his backside to pull him towards you, he doesn't need to be told twice. 

As he pushes into you, your senses hurtle into overload, the aching need becomes something all-encompassing, you can't think of anything but how he feels inside you. He growls against your lips and you feel it all the way down to your toes. 

You clit is throbbing with sensitivity, every nerve in your body seemingly alight with pleasure and want. He starts to thrust into you, he grunts as he pushes deeper, bracing his feet against the arm of the sofa and pushing up into you, your bodies so close that every movement brings blissful friction. 

“Issei.” You moan his name and he shudders, he lets go of your thigh and takes a hold of the back of the sofa, his speed and power increasing as he frantically thrusts haphazardly into you. His desperation matched only by your own. 

It's not enough. He growls as he pushes himself fully on top of you, his access now unobstructed he fucks you the way he's dreamed of. You wrap your arms around his neck and keep him close to you, you hear him mutter your name and as you roll your hips up to meet him you feel the pressure and intensity build in your core. 

“I'm not gonna last-” He grunts against your neck. 

You slip your fingers into his hair and hold him close, you press your lips to his ear. “Cum for me, Issei.”

His pace becomes pounding as he pushes through his orgasm, his cock pulsing as he ejaculates being what pushes you passed the point of no return, your body clamping down around him as you both ride out your release. 

He stays on top of you as he catches his breath, You kiss down his neck, you can feel his pulse fluttering against your lips. You want to make him feel like this again. “Come to bed with me?”

He looks down at you and smiles, “I thought you'd never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who saw this to the end, thank you!


	8. Keycard - Tsukishima Kei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're rich this time, congratulations!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If dialogue isn't your thing then you might wanna skip this one tbh.
> 
> I have had the WORST writers block, it's been so hard to get out of the headspace from the last few chapters! I got too attached to Mattsun guys, I broke my brain lol.

“Anywhere here, please.”

You pay the taxi driver and step out onto the street in front of a building you haven't laid eyes on in years. You sigh, you thought it might feel different after all this time but, it would seem, some things never change.

You take a moment to brace yourself, then you push open the glass door and move forward, stalling won't make it any better.

You make a point of being kind to the women on the front desk, even though you wouldn't be able to guess if you'd actually met any of them before. In truth, this place couldn't have been further from your mind for the last two years. 

You head for the elevators and make your way to the top floor.

Upon your arrival you realise that the floor seems to be empty. You check your watch, lunch time. You curse your luck, the flight had come in earlier than you'd expected and you'd been impatient to get this over with so you'd come straight from the airport. You hope your things have made it to the their destination in one piece.

You make your way over to the executive office to find somewhere to wait. You're a little surprised to find not one, but two desks where the CEO's assistant used to work. Huh, you guess some things have changed. 

You drop yourself into the one with no personal effects on display, retrieving your phone from your purse so you can see if there's an update about your belongings. You sigh when you see they've arrived. You try to remind yourself that the one positive thing about being home is you'll get to sleep in your old bed tonight, a giant monstrosity of a four poster bed that had been gifted to you as a teenager. You love it, and you hate that you love it. Mixed feelings aside, it was still the most comfortable place you'd ever slept and sleep sounds so good to you right now.

You scroll as you wait, spinning aimlessly in the chair, pushing off of the base in one direction, waiting for it to come to a halt, before doing the same in the opposite direction. 

Mid-spin you catch movement in your peripheral vision, you look up from your phone to be greeted by a very tall blond man with glasses glaring down at you. He's wearing headphones and holds, what you assume to be, his lunch in one hand. Well, hello there new guy. 

You put on your sweetest smile, “Can I help you?”

You see his mouth twitch in irritation as he takes the headphones off. “Considering you're sat at my desk, maybe I'm the one who should be asking you that.”

Too easy. “Oh, no thank you,” You smile innocently, “I'm fine.” You return to your scrolling. 

There's only a few moments of silence but you can feel annoyance radiating from him nonetheless. It's delicious. “Then if you would kindly find somewhere else to be 'fine' so I can have my chair back, I would appreciate it.” 

You look around you like you hadn't noticed the problem, “Oh!”, you stand, brushing by him as you move, “Excuse me, of course.” 

You get a better look at him as he sits down, he's kind of cute, you think, even when he's scowling. His skin is fair and he has long, delicate looking fingers, you wonder if he plays an instrument. 

He's about to take a bite out of his sandwich when he sees you staring. “Is there anything else?” Poor guy, he doesn't know yet he can't get rid of you that easily.

You lean against his desk, curious. “Have you worked here long?”

He slides his sandwich away from where you're perched on the desk, like your presence alone might spoil it, you do your best not to laugh. “Long enough.” 

He sounds defensive, he can't be much older than you, if at all, he's also already on the top floor so you assume he's gotten some grief over the situation. You choose a different tactic.

You lean in, conspiratorially. “What's it like working so close with the big guy?” You nod your head towards the executives' door.

He surprises you with a hard smile, his tone even faker than yours. “Apologies, I don't partake in office gossip with my co-workers.” 

Your mouth twitches, you like him. “I guess it's a good thing I don't work here then.”

His eyebrows knit together as he looks at you a little closer. Your clothes are smart but your heels definitely aren't work appropriate, You wonder what he makes of you. 

“In that case,” his tone is suspicious, “as we have no further business here, I'd like to enjoy what little of my lunch break I have left. Enjoy the rest of your day.” 

His curt tone would probably be enough to send most people scurrying back to their posts, unfortunately for him, you're not most people. You wait him out, unmoving. 

He doesn't even last a minute before his patience snaps like a twig. He turns back to glare at you. “What?”

“I'm just curious.” You say innocuously, “Maybe if you answered my question I'd be more inclined to leave.” You can't stop your amusement showing as he tries and fails to bite down on his irritation. 

“What do you want to know?” he snaps, “That he's temperamental and quick to anger, that he asks for above and beyond what any reasonable person should have to do on a daily basis, that he changes his mind seemingly on a whim and that his word is always final?” 

You feel your eyebrows jump up towards your hairline, he's clearly not enjoying it here, not that you could blame him. You feel kind of bad for pushing. 

He huffs out an exasperated sigh, “Or that despite all of these things, I've still learned enough in just a few months that it's been worth it?” He sounds more annoyed at that point than anything else he's said. Interesting. 

You offer him an actual smile, “That's a good answer.” You mean it. 

He rolls his eyes. “In that case, if you wouldn't mind-”

“Ah! If it isn't the little Miss!” 

You turn to see the CEO's senior assistant, face split into a kindly smile. “I wasn't aware you were arriving today. Are your studies over so soon? You look so vibrant, my dear.”

You return his smile, genuinely glad to see the old man well, he'd been around so long you couldn't remember a time you hadn't known him. 

“They are, indeed. It feels like only yesterday that I left.” You lie without guilt, no one benefits from knowing how little you'd wanted to return. 

He gives a sage nod and you chance a glance at the young man who's now open mouthed gawking at you. You offer a smile that could almost be construed as apologetic. “I don't suppose my father is available? I came straight from the airport so I had no chance to call ahead.”

You see realisation dawn on his face. Sorry, new guy. 

“He was on a conference call the last I checked, but come, come, he wouldn't want you waiting out here alone. Would you like anything to drink?” The older man's babble trails off as he heads into the office. 

You spare one last look at the new guy, “Thank you for your time.” before following. He doesn't respond. 

When you finally enter your father's personal office, you're taken aback by how oppressive it feels, you think back to a time when this had been your favourite place in the world. Children are dumb, you decide.

He stands, arms open in greeting. He doesn't hug you, of course, instead choosing to squeeze your shoulders before offering his cheek so you can kiss him in greeting. “Father.” You put as much warmth into the word as you can muster. 

“How was your flight?”

You clamp down on your annoyance, he doesn't want to know how you are, how school was, anything like that, it would be the flight he asks about. “Early for once.” He nods happily at your non-answer and moves back to his seat behind the large mahogany desk, he gestures to the empty chairs opposite. 

Your eyes drift over to the sofa that's also in the room, lord forbid he ever actually sit next to you. You take one of the proffered seats.

“Now that you're home,” he continues, “will you be returning to the estate?”

He'd have to drag you back kicking and screaming. “I thought it would be best to return to my apartment suite at the hotel, I wouldn't want your wife to be put out.”

He gives you a warning look, “You know better than to talk about your mother that way.”

“Yes, father.” The concession slips automatically from your lips. You're irritated with yourself for how naturally it comes even after all this time. 

His hard look softens as he looks at you, “It really is good to see you, darling.” he offers you a rare smile and suddenly it's like you're nine years old again. 

“It's good to see you too, papa.”

After ten minutes or so of catching up, you see him look at his watch and know family time is up. 

“Is there anything else you need now you're back?” 

More than ten minutes of your time, maybe? “No, I have everything under control, thank you.” You can't wait to get out of here. “If you could ask someone to call a taxi for me though, I'd appreciate it.”

“A taxi? Nonsense.” He presses the call button for his assistant, “Send Tsukishima in.”

A few moments later a familiar blond appears in the doorway, ah, new guy has a name then. He pointedly doesn't look at you. “Yes, sir?”

“You're free now, yes?” 

He does a good job of covering his annoyance. “My lunch break ends in five minutes, sir.”

“Good. I want you to take my daughter wherever she needs to go.”

You smile at him, “I'll be in your care.”

You slide into the passenger seat, immediately kicking your heels off in the footwell, you sigh as you rub at your sore feet. You can feel him glaring already. 

You push your seat back into a more reclined position before putting your feet up on the dash, crossing them at the ankle as you wiggle your toes. It's only then that you meet Mr Uptight's judgemental stare, you shrug, “Company car.”

Whatever he wants to say gets swallowed down, he only manages one word through gritted teeth. “Address.” He points at the GPS. 

He doesn't speak again until you reach your destination. You slip your shoes back on and turn to leave. 

“Did you-” He pauses, you turn back to him, questioning. “Did you tell your father about what I said?”

He looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here having to ask you this. You decide to show mercy. “No.” You answer plainly, “That wasn't why I asked. He won't hear anything from me, you don't have to worry.”

He gives you a tight lipped nod. “Thank you.”

It looks like it causes him physical pain to say it. You laugh. “You're welcome.”

You don't see him again until the following week, when you wake in your bed to the sight of his disgusted face glaring down at you. He really does do that a lot.

“How did you get in here?” you ask, confused but unalarmed. 

“I knocked on the door for 30 minutes,” he answers flatly, “when you didn't answer I had to call your father, who shouted about my incompetence for a while before demanding the housekeeping staff provide me with a keycard.”

Of course he did. “What does he want?” You're too tired for pleasantries, anyway. 

He looks surprised by your lack of surprise. “Lunch.”

You drag the blanket up over your face as you make a frustrated sound. “Fine.”

“It's already past noon.”

You ignore him. Taking a moment to mentally prepare yourself, a moment that's quickly broken. 

“I can trust that you won't be going back to sleep?”

“Fine! Fine.” You sit up, sliding your bare legs out of the bed and wrapping the sheet around your naked body as you stand. You notice him quickly try to look anywhere else as he turns a very intriguing shade of pink. When he doesn't move, you ask “Are you going to watch me dress?” openly enjoying his discomfort.

He's back to being annoyed in an instant. He slides his glasses back up his nose with his middle finger before turning and leaving the room. “Really?” You scoff. “What are you, twelve?” You shout after him, he doesn't respond.

The car ride is silent except for the sound of rain hitting the windshield, the weather being about as gloomy as your mood. You hate being summoned like this. You stare out of the window listlessly. “Do you know what he wants?”

“No,” his answer is curt, “I just do what I'm told.”

You click your tongue, annoyed, “Typical.”

“Apologies, princess.” He bites off the words, “Not everyone can be a part of the inner circle.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Princess?”

He gives you a look.

Ah, he'd been in your room. “The bed?”

He gives a single nod. “The bed.” he confirms.

Amused, you smirk. Fair enough. “I can live with that.”

When you arrive, the restaurant is fairly quiet, the lunch time rush already coming to an end. It makes it easy to spot the man sat alone at a table, scowling. 

You brace yourself for his annoyance as you greet him. “Father.” He stands but makes no move to approach you, this is business not pleasure then. Great.

Tsukishima starts to excuse himself but is cut off, “Sit.” You really wish he wouldn't talk to people like they're dogs. “My child has made problems for you, it's the least I could do.” You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

His eyes flick to you before he nods and takes a seat, “That's very kind, sir.”

You make it halfway through the main course before the reason you were dragged here finally comes to light. 

He's been talking about some up and coming company he wants to bring into the conglomerate for a while now, Tsukishima seems intrigued but you're having trouble keeping your eyes from glazing over. He's saying something about wining and dining them to seal a deal when his last sentence catches your attention.

“So I'd like you to join us.”

Your eyes snap to your father, you blink, “Me?”

He nods, “Their CEO has an unwed son only a few years older than you who'll also be joining us.”

Dread settles into your gut, “Is that so?”

He continues as if you didn't speak, “I expect you to dress appropriately, I want you to make a lasting impression on both of them.”

This, you think, this is why you left.

You stare at him as he continues to eat, oblivious to your feelings. When you speak, your voice is louder than you intend. “You said I wouldn't have to do this any-” 

He cuts you off, “And then we made an agreement.”

You can't believe he's doing this, it's not fair. “But papa!-”

He slams his hand on the table and glares at you. Your mouth clamps shut as you feel the whole restaurant look your way, your jaw clenches so hard you think you hear your teeth creak. 

His voice is low when he speaks again, his word final. “You will do this.”

“Yes, father.” You bite off the words. Furious at your inability to stand up to the man. 

He gestures for the bill before turning to Tsukishima who, to his credit, has been doing a fairly good job of making himself invisible. “Take her home.” He doesn't acknowledge you again before he leaves.

You drop down heavily into the passenger seat of the car, scrubbing your hands over your face and into your hair, frustration pulsing through you.

“Is it always like that?” he enquires casually as he pulls out into traffic.

You're surprised he's spoken to you voluntarily, let alone to ask something personal. You sigh, the fight going out of you. “Pretty much.” You could leave it there but you don't. “I shouldn't have called him papa, it was a business meal, I should know better than that.” 

You turn to look at him, studying his profile. “How did you get this job?” It might be rude to ask but he's just seen you yelled at like a child, the lines have already been muddied, you may as well get your curiosity sated. 

He looks at you sideways and for a second you think he might ignore you. “I'm not really sure.” That's not an answer, you think, but he continues before you can complain. “I was accepted for an internship originally, but when I met your father he offered me this position instead. It felt like it would be a mistake to say no.”

You sigh, of course he did. “It's because you're tall and good-looking.” He looks your way, eyes wide, clearly confused. “Everyone else around him is old. Experienced, yes, but still old.” You gesture towards him, “You're young, and handsome. You'll impress people the others can't.” 

You hear him tsk, you don't know if he's offended or just doesn't believe you. “Don't get me wrong,” You're not sure why his impression of you matters but, at this moment, you care. “I'm not questioning your ability, you must be good at your job or he'd have fired you just as quickly.” You shrug one shoulder. “But he'll still trot you out in front of the older women, or use you to charm the clients with young daughters, whatever gets the deal done.” Your lip twitches in disgust. You look out of your window, dejected. 

“You think I'm handsome?” You turn and find him smirking at you, like you've accidentally revealed your hand, it baffles you. 

“You don't?” You ask genuinely. 

The smirk falters as he glances between you and the road in front of him. He clears his throat but doesn't reply, choosing to focus his attention on the road instead. 

After a while he speaks again. “Are you going to go to the dinner?” 

Your irritation bristles. “My, we are chatty today, aren't we?” You're only half joking. “Did it sound like I have a choice to you?” Of course you're going.

“There's always a choice.” He answers, like logic will help you here.

You scoff, his answer infuriating you. What would he know? 

“What would you know?” Your tone is accusing. “You think I like being summoned this way?” Who would enjoy this? “Waiting around to be dangled as a potential bargaining chip whenever there's a profit at stake?” Anger pours through you, unspent frustration bursting from you like water through the crack in a dam. 

“I left!” You chuck the words at him, heedless to whether he'll understand them or not. “I got to go to school, make friends, have an actual life!” Your heart hurts for what you left behind. “And the only reason I got to do those things in the first place was if I agreed not to take any job my father didn't personally approve of when I returned.” You're pretty sure you're shouting now, “And guess who wouldn't approve any?”

You swallow down the sob that threatens to escape you as he pulls into the parking lot of the hotel. You grit your teeth and do your best to reel in your emotions. “I made a deal, I'm paying my dues.” You state, “I don't have to be happy about it.”

You wordlessly get out of the car as soon as he pulls to a stop, uninterested and unwilling to continue the conversation. You flee to your suite.

The meal had been just as awful as you'd expected it to be. Your father had been his usual self, the son had been boring until he'd gotten a drink in him, then he'd been awkward and eager, none of which you'd found endearing. Tsukishima had also been among the guests, your paths hadn't crossed, thankfully, you weren't itching to face him, not after you'd embarrassed yourself the last time you'd seen him. 

It had finally ended when the men had made the decision to head to another place for drinks and cigars. You'd taken the opportunity to make your escape, only to have your father catch you by the arm and tell you to come to the office the next morning. 

So here you were, standing in front of him as he congratulated himself on business well done, having sealed the deal the night before. They were even going to host an evening to welcome them to the “family” this weekend, another event you were to attend without complaint. 

During his self applause you learn something interesting. 

“The boy was worried you wouldn't be of use, he seemed to think you'd be reluctant to do your part.” You narrow your eyes, Tsukishima? “Hopefully he's learned that it's always better to cover every base, what's the point in having secret weapons if you never put them to use?” 

He'd tried to get you out of it, you realise. And he'd done it without betraying your confidence. Whether it had been done out of pity or just from a business stance didn't really matter, he'd heard you, and he'd tried to change it. It's a small thing but you're surprised at how grateful it makes you feel.

He finally finishes praising himself and gestures to the door, your role fulfilled. At least he's walking you to the elevator this time, you suppose.

When you get outside of the office, it's impossible not to hear the raised voices coming from the assistant's desks. “What are you doing here?” You can see Tsukishima arguing with another man, a man who bears a striking familial resemblance. Tsukishima seems to be trying to get him to leave.

“Who is this?” Your father's voice renders them both immediately silent. 

Well, this isn't good.

He's apologetic, “My brother, sir.”

Your father looks furious, “Am I paying you to socialise? What is the meaning of this?”

Honestly, why can't he ever act like a reasonable person. You step forward, ready to save the day. “Actually,” All eyes turn to you, you give Tsukishima a look, he better appreciate this. “he's my guest.” 

All three of them look surprised, you push ahead. “Tsukishima-san has been very kind to me since my return, when I heard his brother was in town I wanted to take them both to lunch.” You look at his brother, “As a thank you for being so patient with me.” 

You turn back to your father and bow your head respectfully, “I apologise father, I had wanted it to be a surprise but it was poorly thought out on my part. I should have known better.” The words aren't so much of a bitter pill to swallow when every single one of them is a lie. 

He believes you, of course. His voice is gruff but forgiving. “Well, if you already know that then I see no need to point it out further.” He looks between the two brothers then back at you. “Take the hour.” He turns and heads back to his office, seemingly appeased. 

You give them both a sharp look and gesture towards the door, eager to be out of here. You all leave without a word, lunch suddenly seeming like a very good idea. 

Conversation flows easily, Akiteru is unexpectedly polite and sweet, he's also extremely proud of his little brother. “The CEO!” he'd exclaimed loudly, “You didn't tell me you were the CEO's assistant!”

“Second assistant.” Tsukishima had corrected. The technicality seemed lost on his brother.

“You never tell me anything, Kei.” he'd lamented into his food. 

Kei. It suits him. 

After the meal Tsukishima excuses himself to the bathroom and you decide to head to the till to pay. You bump into each other as you return. He looks uncomfortable to be alone with you, you don't much care.

“Thank you.” you say easily, he looks confused. “I appreciate that you tried.” Akiteru joins you before you can say anymore. You leave them to say goodbye as you call a taxi. 

As they pass he catches your eye. “Will you be there Saturday?” Ah yes, the big event. You nod. His brother looks at you and grins, offering you a wave, you return the smile. They really are so different.

You spend all of Saturday indulging yourself in the run up to the evening. You soak in the tub until the water turns cool, you visit the lady who does your waxing, you get your nails done and your hair styled.

When you get home you still have a couple of hours before you have to leave but you start to get ready regardless, if you have to go then you're going feeling good about yourself. 

You turn your music up, loud. You slather yourself in creams and lotions, do your make up just the way you like it, and dig out your best perfume to dab behind your ears and the inside of your wrists. 

Then, you pick out your favourite set of lingerie. 

You put on each piece, carefully and methodically, a well practiced ritual by now. Slipping on the matching bra and underwear, then the lacy suspender belt, last you unroll the delicate stockings along the length of your legs, clipping them in place at the thigh. 

You examine your reflection in the mirror and feel the mask of confidence slip into place, your own secret weapon, a metaphorical armour that let's you be whatever you need to be to survive the corporate bullshit that has surrounded you since you came of age. 

You head over to where your outfit is hanging. Forgoing an evening dress and choosing comfort instead, you run your hand over the pleated midi skirt and the fine, white silk blouse. You think you'll look pretty.

It's at this moment that your bedroom door swings open and Tsukishima Kei makes his entrance. 

He doesn't even notice you as he heads straight for your music dock and shuts it off. He exhales, satisfied. He turns to call out for you, but he spots you before he gets the chance. 

His jaw hangs open as he takes in your outfit, or lack thereof. You clear your throat to get his attention, his eyes refocusing on yours. “I think I'm going to need that keycard back.”

He decides to wait in the living area.

When you emerge fully dressed from your room, he stands automatically. He looks over your outfit sceptically, “That's what you're wearing?”

Everyone's a critic. “Yes, why?” You reply, dryly. 

He looks uncomfortable. “I was just expecting something more... dramatic?”

You scoff. “Because of my choice in underwear?”

He tilts his head in acknowledgement, you can't help but smile. If only he knew he'd never seen you without it, well, apart from that once when you'd been all but naked. Funny, now that you think about it, he seems more flustered about this than he did then.

“Think of it more like choosing a business suit, it's just mine is invisible to everyone but me.” You slide your eyes over to him, “And now, you, I suppose.” 

He has the decency to look a little sheepish as he pushes his glasses back up his nose. “I can't say I see the similarities, personally.” 

You shrug, “It's a power thing I guess, would you rather walk into a company meeting in your suit or in your casuals?” He doesn't answer but he doesn't need to, the choice is obvious.

He looks thoughtful. You're ready to get this over with. “Shall we go?”

The night is bigger and glitzier than you'd anticipated. 

There are people everywhere and your father, after a disapproving comment about your outfit, had felt the need to re-introduce you to almost everyone. It's exhausting. And when someone finally comes to your rescue, it couldn't be further from what you were hoping for.

The guests of honour make their appearance, the son already smelling strongly of alcohol. He leans too close to you as he speaks, and when he asks you to dance your father agrees before you can refuse. You push down your repulsion as best you can as you take his hand. 

On your way to the dance floor you see Tsukishima entertaining a woman your father's age, and her middle aged daughter. You catch his eye as you pass, offering a small smile and a shrug. You're surprised when he returns it. 

He's uncomfortably handsy as you dance, leaving his hold low on your waist. You try your best to distance yourself from him but there's no way to do it gracefully. When he finally gets brave enough to squeeze your backside, it takes all of your self control not to punch him in the face. 

You feel a tap on the shoulder and are greeted by a looming Tsukishima, his fake smile pinned into place. “Miss, your father is asking for you. Excuse me, sir.” He places a hand on the small of your back and guides you away. You blow out a relieved sigh. He leans down to your ear as he leaves you at the bar, your father nowhere in sight, “You can thank me later.” He moves away before you can respond. 

You take the opportunity to get out of the main hall, heading towards the kitchen in search of somewhere to waste some time alone. You think you've found a pretty deserted corridor when a female voice calls out to you. 

As you turn you're greeted by a drink being thrown in your face. “Keep away from my fiance, whore.” She storms away from you as you stand there, shocked. 

“Hey!” It's Tsukishima, he must have followed you out. He goes to chase after the woman but you stop him, you can't afford any drama at this event. He offers you his pocket square so you can wipe your eyes. You wonder absently if waterproof mascara can survive alcohol.

You check your clothes, luckily it seems like she's a G&T kind of woman, wine would have made a much bigger mess. It's little comfort when you realise you can see your bra clearly through your shirt. “Shit.” You can't go back like this, and you can't explain what happened without risking a massive fallout. You really must remind your father that unwed does not equate to single. 

Tsukishima grabs you by the arm and pulls you to the nearest men's bathroom. He checks it's empty before dragging you in. “No one will look for you here.”

He stands on watch at the door as you unbutton your shirt, slipping it off to inspect the damage. You hope drying it will be enough. 

You head into a stall and put the toilet lid down so you can sit as you use a ludicrous amount of tissue paper to try and absorb any lingering moisture. When that proves not to be enough you head back out to the hand drier, it can't be too different from blow drying your hair, you reason.

After a minute you notice him chancing glances at you in the mirror. You catch his eye in the reflection, “Something on your mind?”

He looks away like he's unfazed, but that pink hue is back. “I just didn't think women actually wore that kind of thing, outside the bedroom, obviously.”

You roll your eyes. “Then you underestimate women.” He sniffs. You watch his reflection. “You don't approve?” your tone is goading.

He meets your eye. “It just doesn't scream professionalism to me.”

You raise an eyebrow, “No?”, you turn to face him directly. “Then what does it scream to you?” You lift your chin, welcoming his appraisal. You've got nothing to be ashamed of. 

You can see his Adam's apple bob from the other side of the room. 

When he speaks, his tone is irritated. “How long is this going to take?” He crosses the room to inspect your progress.

You match his irritation. “I'm doing the best I can, it's not like I've ever done this before! This is what dry cleaners are for.”

He tuts as he snatches it from you. “Of course the princess can't even do her own laundry.”

You open your mouth, insulted, “I would argue this isn't exactly laundry.”

He turns to snap back but when he looks down at you, you notice his eyes keep going lower as he realises he can see the outline of your nipples through your bra. 

When he finally meets your eye he looks quickly away again, “Here.” He hands your shirt back to you, “It should be fine to wear now.”

You wonder what he'd do if you kissed him. The thought surprises you and you look away. “Thank you.”

He moves out of your way and leans on the stall's doorframe. You slip your arms into the shirt, taking a moment to untuck your hair from the collar, you realise he's still watching you. You pause. “Hey-”

You hear laughter as the bathroom door swings open and two men step into the room. 

Shit. You push Tsukishima into the stall, following him quickly. He backs up until his knees hit the toilet and he sits down with a thump as you close the stall door behind you. “Hey!” It's a tight fit, he's so long.

“I panicked,” you practically hiss at him, “now shhh!”

You cover his mouth with your hand as you listen to the two men talk, relieved when you don't recognise either voice. The last thing you need is to be caught in a compromising position with your fathers assistant. 

When you look down at him, you realise he's staring directly at your chest, your shirt still unbuttoned and your tits now at eye level being too much of a temptation to resist. You roll your eyes. 

The angle you're at is awkward, he tries to move his legs to accommodate you more but you catch your elbow painfully on the plastic tissue dispenser and have to swallow down a yelp. 

His braces your weight as he pulls you heavily into his lap, his hand on the small of your back inbetween you and the offending plastic box. You swallow, you'd assumed his slight frame would feel just that, slight, but he feels strong underneath you. 

You take a levelling breath as you meet his eye, your hand still in place over his mouth. You become aware you're now the one who's staring. His fingers on your back spread wide as he keeps you upright against him. You really do want to kiss him, you remind yourself you can't afford to ruin your lipstick, you know if you start you won't want to stop. 

He swallows under your touch. His other hand settles onto your thigh, gripping, not resting. You watch as his pupils dilate and his breath gets heavy. You wonder if you look the same way. 

You lean in, you wish you could give in but you can't, so you close your eyes and press your lips to the back of your hand where it covers his mouth. He shifts how he's sitting as he pulls you a hairs breadth closer. Your hand becomes damp from the heat of his breath. 

The men wash up and make their exit, leaving you both in silence. You pull away from him first, stepping out of the stall and buttoning up your shirt. He stays where he is for a minute. 

You're washing the lipstick from your hand as he emerges. You share a look. You want to ask him to leave with you. 

“Your father will be waiting.” He walks away. 

You notice his pocket square is still sitting on the counter. You look at your reflection in the mirror. “What am I doing?” You sigh.

When you had back out to the party, it's to say your goodbyes.

You track your father down, he's standing with Tsukishima and a few other of his staff. Good, you can get this done in one then.

When he demands to know why you're leaving you explain about how you'd clumsily spilled your drink down your shirt and how Tsukishima had valiantly stood guard while you fixed your mistake. You point out that if you'd taken his advice from the start and worn a 'real dress' that you wouldn't have been so complacent and made such a silly mistake. He swallows it all easily, always willing to accept that you're just incompetent. You kiss his cheek goodnight. 

You turn to Tsukishima. “Thank you again for your assistance,” You produce his pocket square, taking a second to fix it back into place, “and please remember if there's anything I can ever do to thank you,” You pat his breast pocket, his eyes widen a little as he feels your keycard wrapped inside the silk square. “my door is always open to you.” You smile up at him before leaving, hoping he'll choose to follow you home.

You've been home almost an hour when the door lock chimes and he finally appears. 

You stand up from the sofa to greet him, your stomach a bundle of nerves and anticipation. You'd changed when you'd returned home, trading your alcohol laced outfit for your favourite silk robe. You'd kept the lingerie. 

You're not sure what to say. “Do you want a drink?”

“No.”

You smile, why are you so nervous. “I wasn't sure you'd come.”

He steps towards you and it strikes you just how tall he really is. You should have kept the heels. “You invited me.” There's something in his voice that hits your ear differently than normal.

He's close enough to touch now. He loosens his tie so he can undo the top button of his shirt. It suits him. You reach out to do the rest for him. You slip the knot of his tie down so you can lift it off of him, taking care to avoid his glasses. 

As you reach up, his hands meet your waist, running them along your sides as you try to focus. You undo his shirt as he watches you. You pull it open to reveal a smooth but toned chest, you run your fingers along his collar bone. You feel him tug gently at your robe, the loose knot coming away easily as it opens.

You turn away, your nerves getting the better of you as you feel uncharacteristically self-conscious. You pull him by the hand over to the sofa as you try to get a hold of your nerves.

You push him onto the sofa and make yourself take control, you straddle his lap. He grips your thighs as he readjusts under you, pressing your sex firmly against his. 

You rest your hands on either side of his neck, leaning in to kiss him like you'd wanted to earlier. You pull away again at the last second, meeting his eye. “You know this won't help you get ahead at work, don't you?” You feel vulnerable as you ask, nervous about his motivations for being here with you. 

He looks at you levelly, “You know this won't help you get back at your dad, don't you?” That's.. actually a good answer, you guess everyone has something they're worried about. 

You grin. “Noted.” Before you press your lips to his, your hesitation evaporating into mist. His initial tension quickly seeps out of him as he relaxes against you, his hands finding their way under your robe, pushing it out of his way so he can look at you properly.

You decide you don't want to make it too easy for him. You slide your hands into his hair and pull his head back, exposing his neck. You kiss down to the hollow in his throat as he massages your waist. 

He slips the robe from your shoulders, you let it fall to the floor at his feet, your lips returning to his, more insistent. He's a good kisser. His hands run up your back, you inhale as your bra comes undone, you feel anticipation push at your senses as you let him take it from you. 

He pulls you towards him, your bare torso pressed against his. You shudder at the contact. You hum against his kiss, pleased. He reacts by sliding forwards in his seat, taking you with him. He braces your weight and stands, forcing you to wrap your legs around him or risk falling. 

He speaks before you can complain, “If I'm going to fuck the princess” his voice teasing, “I should get to do it properly.” You laugh against his neck as he carries you to the four poster bed. 

He drops you onto it, looking you over as you cover your breasts and look up at him, you feel exposed. “Take your time.” you goad sarcastically.

He runs his hands up one of your legs, his fingers gliding against the smooth stocking, stopping at the thigh to unhook it from your suspender belt, before repeating with your other leg. You swallow, you hadn't expected him to want you naked. 

He lies on top of you to kiss you again, you can feel him getting hard. He slips a hand under your back and unclips your suspender belt, you feel it come loose against you before he takes it away.

He pulls away from you and looks down your body, he runs the back of his finger over the hill of your breast, looking pleased as your nipple hardens at his touch. The anticipation is too much. “Are we doing this, or what?”

He gives you an irritated look. “Fine.” 

He stands and undoes his belt, you cover yourself again as you wait for him. He stops as he undoes the button on his trousers, leaning down to grip your hips, he flips you onto your front gracelessly. 

You shoot him an annoyed look over your shoulder as he undoes his trousers and drops them to the ground. You don't say anything though, quietly relieved not to be so obviously under his gaze any longer. 

He kneels on the bed beside you, running his hand along your spine and over your backside, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, you lift your hips and let him take those from you too. You notice he leaves the thigh high stockings.

You arch your back, raising your hips as much as you can as he leans over you, lining himself up against your entrance. He pushes in, slowly. You inhale as your body stretches to accommodate him, you moan softly as he fills you.

You expect him to start thrusting from the position he's in, so you're surprised when you feel his weight shift onto his elbow as his chest presses against your back, he brushes your hair away from his face, resting his chin on your shoulder as he slides a hand under your body, finding your clit easily. 

You're embarrassed at the gasp you let out as he touches you. You huff a laugh, “I thought you were going to fuck me properly?”

“Shut up.” There's that change in his voice again, an unfamiliar richness in his tone. 

You swallow as he circles the little cluster of nerves, feeling deliciously full even as he refuses to fuck you. When he finds a pace that suits you just right you moan again. he presses a kiss to your shoulder, “Looks like I'm a fast learner.”

You want to argue with him but you can't find anything worth saying as your inside walls clench down on him, you hear him grunt. You turn to look up at him to find him already watching your face intently, you gasp as he hits something just right and he stares at your mouth, he swallows as you moan again. “There,” your voice is strained, “faster, faster.”

He watches your orgasm hit you, but your tightness overwhelms him and his has to press his forehead to your shoulder as you ride it out, trying to think of anything but you. He's not done yet.

He removes his hand from you before pulling out entirely. You're still catching your breath when he grabs you by the knee and turns you onto your back again, pulling you to the edge of the bed so he can re-enter you while standing. 

He looks you over as he pulls your leg up against his chest, resting your heel on his shoulder as he lines himself up against you once more. “I gave you yours, now be quiet because I want mine.” He runs his hand along your stocking clad calf, pressing his lips to the inside of your ankle. 

You're confused. if he's trying to be selfish shouldn't he be asking for something that benefits only him. “And this is all you want?” 

He sighs, exasperated. “What I want,” he says, “is to be able to appreciate how fucking good you look without your mouth ruining it for once.” He meets your stare, challenging. 

Was... that a compliment? You stare up at him. 

You don't what to say, so you don't say anything. 

His eyes gloss over you, he licks his lips as he pushes into you again, still tight from your orgasm. He starts to thrust, one hand holding your thigh close to his torso, keeping you in place. He palms your breast with the other, his eyes closing as his speed increases. 

When he opens them again he meets your eye, his gaze searches your face before roaming down your body and back up again. When he gets to your eyes again, he smiles at you. There's the shadow of a dimple in one of his cheeks. Huh, so that's what his real smile looks like. It's hot. 

You run your your hands over your breasts as he watches, squeezing a nipple between your fingers with one, as the other continues down your stomach to where your bodies meet. 

He swallows as the back of your fingers brush against his pubic hair. You touch yourself, stimulating your still overly sensitive clit as he fucks you. Your body shudders underneath him as he watches. 

Your voice is breathy, “Harder, Kei.” he doesn't disappoint. Gripping your thigh hard as he slams into you.

You're close, but he's closer. “S-sorry.” He pulls out at the last second and pins it between you as he practically collapses on top of you.

His twitching cock pressing against your clit pushes you into your second, not a full orgasm, but something that sparks and pulses and leaves you writhing awkwardly underneath him as it takes you by surprise. When it passes you can't help the laughter that follows, it's a weird but good feeling. You're having fun, you realise.

He looks down at you, annoyed already, as he removes himself from you. He goes to the bathroom to grab you a towel, throwing it at you where you lie. 

“Well,” you say, smile firmly in place. “There's a first I'll never forget.”

He raises his eyebrow at you as he watches you clean yourself off, “I didn't think you'd be the sentimental type.”

“Not usually,” you admit, “but getting my first compliment AND my first apology from Tsukishima-san isn't something even I would easily forget.” 

He takes you by surprise when he drops himself down on the bed beside you, you'd expected him to dress and leave after he was done. “Well don't get used to it.” He makes himself comfortable, settling in to sleep.

You smile at him, “I wouldn't dream of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who makes it through this one, I'm not super happy with it, normally I write one at a time and then let them go quickly, but I've been juggling three part done one's this week and it's got me a little meh about them. 
> 
> And thank you to the people who commented on the last chapters, the feedback really means a lot to me!


	9. One Becomes Two - Bokuto Koutarou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto steals the spotlight away from your crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said they would be shorter? I am a liar, apparently.

“I expect them on my desk next week.”

You dig the hard copy of your essay out of your bag, proud to be done before a deadline for once. You give it one last anxious glance, briefly contemplating taking a few more days on it, when a hand slides into view and slender fingers firmly remove it from your grip. 

You look up at Akaashi Keiji's stoic face as he neatly stacks it on top of his own, before heading down to the desk to hand both in. You exhale, you know he's right but still, one more night couldn't have hurt.

You start to pack your bag away, eyes lingering briefly on the quiet boy's profile as he talks with the lecturer. How is it fair that someone can be so damn pretty? It's been months and you still can't figure it out.

He returns as you're zipping up your bag, handing you a thin folder to look at. You skim read the first page and let out a whistle, it's an outline of the next project, the biggest of the year so far.

You look up at him, “Wanna group up again?”

He shrugs one shoulder as he nods, “I thought that'd make the most sense.”

You thank your lucky stars once again for gifting you with the best study partner you've ever had, you don't think you've ever been more productive in your academic life. Your eyes slide briefly over his delicate features and you swallow down a sigh, you swear you'd be practically unstoppable if he wasn't so distracting.

You grab your phone from your bag, “Akaashi, look scared.” You lean into his space as you bring the phone up, project folder held up in front of your mouth, eyes comically wide. You snap the photo and show it to him, he nods and you stick it on your social page. 'It begins.' - with Akaashi Keiji.

You stand and stretch as you wait for him to pack up. You're thinking about how nice a hot bath sounds right now when one of your classmates comes bouncing over with an invite.

“A funfair?” you hadn't known anything like that was happening tonight. 

You look at Akaashi, he meets your eye and nods. “Sure.” 

Well, if he's going then maybe it'll be fun. You nod too, before remembering you've got your laptop with you. “I'll have to meet you guys there, I've gotta drop this off first.” you say, patting the bag.

“I'll come with you.” You look up at him, surprised, you hadn't expected him to offer. Then you remember the project outline, he probably wants to talk about what you're going to be doing, that makes sense.

The walk to your place isn't far, the student housing being only a stone's throw from campus. Akaashi seems quiet, well, not that that was so unusual, but something still feels a little off. You wonder if it would be overstepping to ask, you'd been friendly ever since classes had started but this is the first time you'd spent non-studying related free time together. It's left you feeling a little awkward.

You let yourself into the two story house, apologising for the sauna like temperature. Ever since the weather started to turn cold, one of your housemates has taken to abusing the thermostat to an almost intolerable degree. You offer a silent thanks that the bills are all inclusive.

Akaashi looks around the entry way with little interest. When you head upstairs to your room you're a little startled when he automatically follows. You quietly panic as you try to remember what state your room had been in when you'd left this morning. 

As you turn the corner, one of your housemates' bedroom door opens and she emerges, already in her pyjamas, scratching her stomach. “Welcome home.” she grumbles through a yawn, her eyes going wide as she spots the man following you. She steps back into her room slightly as you both pass. “Wuheb-hello.” 

“Good evening.” He offers a small nod before he steps passed you and into your room as you open the door. 

You turn to look at her as her mouth hangs open, she mouths the word 'wow' you nod, then quickly shake your head, yes, you know, but it's not like that.

You slide the laptop bag off your shoulder and drop it onto your bed. You watch nervously as Akaashi browses your bookshelf, you can't remember whether or not you left any of your shoujo manga up there. 

You open your wardrobe and dig out your winter coat, it's already cold out and if you're going to be out late tonight then you really can't afford to risk getting sick. You slip off your jacket and hang it over the chair, you take a moment to pull your hair back into a tail. 

You turn to Akaashi to find him already looking your way, it seems like he wants to say something but before he does your housemate reappears in the doorway, you notice her hair is freshly brushed and she's now wearing lip gloss. You really can't blame her. She looks at the coat now laying on the bed. “So, where are you kids off tonight?” 

As you explain about the funfair, Akaashi's phone starts to ring. He looks down at the screen and sighs before accepting the call. “Excuse me.” 

“AKAASHI!” 

The voice on the other end of the call is deafening even from across the room. He winces as he pulls the phone away from his ear. He dips his head in apology before turning away to talk quietly into the phone. 

There's some mumbling from both parties, you hear the funfair mentioned before the disembodied voice spikes again and he instinctively flinches away. 

“IS SHE...” Akaashi smothers the voice before you hear the rest of the question, but when you catch his eyes flicking over to you before he gives a flat “No.” you can't help but be curious. He ends the call with a sigh. “Is it ok if we're joined by one more?”

'One more' quickly turns into two when your housemate sees the opportunity to invite herself along, the three of you now huddled around a patio heater near a drinks tent, nursing warm disposable cups of tea as you wait for Akaashi's roommate to show up. 

The funfair is loud and there are colourful lights every direction you look. Music blasts from a dozen speakers, you can see countless game tents from here and in the distance you can hear the screams and cheers coming from the carnival rides. 

You're so distracted by all the excitement that you don't see the very large and boisterous man bounding towards you before it's too late.

“Hey hey hey!” his voice is alarmingly loud right behind you, you almost jump out of your skin before turning to face him. The first thing you notice is he's got a stick of takoyaki hanging out of his mouth, you make a mental note to hit up the food stalls before anything else.

“Bokuto.” Akaashi greets him levelly before turning to introduce you all. His eyes widen a little when he introduces you, flitting wildly between you and Akaashi. 

“But she's hot!” he laments, loudly. You go to open your mouth, confused, but clamp it shut again when he continues to complain. “You said she wasn't hot!” Oh, you think, that must be what that 'No.' had been about on the phone earlier. 

You wince when Akaashi's hand firmly meets the back of Bokuto's head. He forces the bigger man into a bow, “Excuse us.” You try your best not to laugh as he drags him away by the collar to one of the tables. 

Your housemate gives you a sympathetic smile, “Ouch.” You're not sure if she means for Bokuto or for you. “That's a shame.” 

You sigh, “It really is.” 

You look at Akaashi, wistfully. You'd had a crush on him since the moment he'd introduced himself on the first day of class. Then he'd turned out to be more than just a pretty face, he was also smart and thoughtful, and during that first week something had clicked and you'd found each other to be easy company. When he'd moved seats to sit next to you in class, it had quickly become the norm to pair up to work. 

You smile, only a little sad, you've come to think of him as a good friend and that isn't going to change any time soon. 

“Oh well,” you sigh dramatically, “you can't win them all.” You look over at the table, Akaashi is looking stern while Bokuto listens, pouting, he glances your way. “At least someone thinks I'm hot.” You smile, waving your fingers at him. He instantly perks up and gives you an enthusiastic wave back, before shaking Akaashi by the shoulder. You laugh.

The funfair lives up to it's name. You head to the food stalls first, Akaashi offering to share with you when you can't decide between the ones you want. When your eyes still turn out to be bigger than your belly, Bokuto is more than happy to hoover up what's left, his stomach seemingly having no bottom. 

You wander through the stalls next, your housemate insisting on trying some of the games as you pass through, squealing with delight when you give her your prize tokens, leaving her with enough to claim the one she wanted. 

You bump into your classmates in amongst the carnival rides, they've already had their fill so after a quick chat you wish them a good night as they head out to find a bar, you choose instead to follow in the wake of Bokuto, who's now physically dragging Akaashi towards the Bumper Cars. 

You watch, amused, as they hop into one of the little cars, Akaashi clearly squashed against the side as the other man takes up an impressive amount of space. You and your housemate decline the chance to join them, not really seeing the appeal in trying to get whiplash. 

When they finally emerge from the carnage, only Akaashi looks any worse for wear, Bokuto already marching ahead happily crowing about how many people he'd managed to hit. You offer Akaashi a sympathetic smile, he looks exhausted. “Ferris Wheel?” It's the calmest ride you can think of.

He gives a tired nod as he rolls one shoulder. “Please.” 

You smile and link your arm with his. “Poor Akaashi.” you rub his arm fondly before calling out to Bokuto. “Look! The Ferris Wheel!” He immediately takes the bait, excitedly pointing at how tall it is. You raise your eyebrows, “That was shockingly easy.” you share a laugh with Akaashi as you head towards it. 

Your housemate decides to bow out here, she's got no love of heights and she's got work due in the morning so you wish her goodnight. On your way to the ticket booth you see a Kakigori stand and pause, tempted even in the cold weather. 

Bokuto's face appears in front of you, alarmingly close. “You want one?” He looks at the stall and you nod. His face splits into a grin, “Me too.” He bounces excitedly over as you follow him, wondering at his limitless energy. As you look over the flavours, he agonizes over what to choose. After much umm-ing and ahh-ing, he looks to you. “What are you getting?” 

“Blue.” You answer confidently, you meet his eye, he's looking at you so intently. “Blue's always the best flavour.” 

His eyes are so big, and they're practically golden, you've never seen eyes like it before. When he smiles at you, your stomach does a little flip. It takes you by surprise. “I didn't know that.” He says earnestly. “Two blue ones, please!” 

They let you board the Ferris Wheel, snowcones and all, and, as the three of you sit down, you do your best to ignore the rocking caused by the wind and amplified by Bokuto's constant shifting. 

As it reaches it's apex, you're actually kind of surprised by how pretty everything looks below you, the flashing lights and crowds of people creating a warm, festive feeling. You hold up your phone to take a photo of the picturesque view.

“Oh, me too, me too!” Bokuto takes a photo for himself before holding it up for a selfie, “You guys, too.” You lean across the gap and meet Akaashi halfway, he presses a little against your arm and you glance up at him, letting a nervous laugh escape as you meet his eye, your faces now only a couple of inches apart. Bokuto drops himself to the floor in front of you both, leaning back into your laps, his elbow resting on your knee, throwing up a peace sign as he winks into the camera. 

You smile sheepishly at Akaashi as you move away after the flash, remembering what had been said earlier. You'd always thought your crush had been one sided but it was a little disheartening to know it for a fact. Maybe's were fun sometimes.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud groan from Bokuto as they announce over the speakers that the fair is closing soon. “But I was having fun.” He complains childishly. 

On your way out of the fair, Bokuto suddenly perks up, “Akaashi, look!” He heads for the Strong Man tent, eyeing the massive hammer with interest. His head swivels round to you, eyes bright, “You didn't get a prize, did you?” You think about the tokens you'd given away and shake your head, he smiles. “Alright then.”

He sheds his jacket and hands it to Akaashi, who accepts it dutifully. He rolls his shoulders a few times, stretching and flexing in a way that seems more performative than effective. Not that you're complaining, you knew he was a big guy but you're starting to realise that every inch of him is muscle.

He hefts the hammer easily, swinging it like you might see someone swing a baseball bat. He rests it over his shoulder as he lines up his feet carefully. When he finally swings there's the uncomfortably loud sound of metal on metal before the bell rings cheerfully for his success. He drops the hammer and raises his arms in victory, laughing triumphantly when you clap for him. 

He goes to inspect the prize wall and you can't help but chuckle. You look at Akaashi, he looks significantly less impressed. “I'm glad I came tonight.” You say with a smile. He looks at you thoughtfully. “Thank you for coming, Akaashi.” You hope he knows there's no hard feelings about earlier, it would be too awkward to bring up now, but you do hope he knows.

He offers you a rare smile. You look away and sigh. Stupid, pretty boys and their stupid, pretty smiles. 

Bokuto bounds over to you both, looking proud as a peacock, Akaashi holds out his jacket, waiting patiently. From behind his back he produces what appears to be a large stuffed owl, although you have a sneaking suspicion that it's actually just a poorly shaped fire hazard. You look at him, confused.

“For you.” He pushes the item at you again. “To think of us by.” His face is just so earnest, it catches you off guard.

You take the item hesitantly. You're not sure why he picked an owl, although, maybe if you turned your head a little and squinted, there was definitely something familiar about the thing. You look up at the smiling Bokuto, maybe it's because of the frosted tips, you reason. 

Despite yourself, the smile on your face is genuine. It's a sweet gesture, you look between him and Akaashi, they're a bit of an odd pair but they're definitely a good one. You really have had a lot of fun. “Thank you.” you say quietly, as you hug the ugly thing to your chest as you all head for the exit.

Just before you reach the place where your routes split up, Bokuto gives a loud 'oh' and stops in place on a small bridge, pulling out his phone. “Can I add you?” He asks you distractedly as he scrolls through his phone. 

“Sure.” You go to take your phone out but find the owl is too big to manoeuvre around so you rest it on the railing, leaning up against the light post.

As you're accepting his invite, movement in the corner of your eye catches your attention and you turn just in time to see the owl disappear over the railing, dislodged by a stiff breeze and irregular stuffing. “Oh!” You gasp as you try to catch it but miss, watching helplessly as it falls into the water below.

You feel something hefty slap into your open hand as a blur of black and white moves past you, you glance down to see an unfamiliar phone in your hand, and as you look back up you watch as the Bokuto shaped blur hops over the railing and out of sight. 

You hear a splash and stand there, open mouthed, gawking. Reality snaps back into place and you lean over the railing and watch as Bokuto pops up out of the water, wooping. You jog along the bridge and stumble down the bank of grass towards where he's standing in the waist high water. “Are you insane??” 

When you reach the last few feet, it turns out to be nothing but mud. You lose your footing quickly and feel yourself start to slip, your first instinct being to put your hands out to catch yourself, but at the last second you remember the phones you're holding, so you lift your arms directly above your head as you drop down heavily onto your backside, the mud squelching unpleasantly underneath you. 

He wades towards you a few steps, holding up the now drenched owl triumphantly. You try to glare at him but you can't keep it up, laughter bubbling out of you as you take in the state of the pair of you. He looks so proud.

He shouts up to the bridge, “Did you see that Akaashi? It was higher than it looked!” You roll your eyes, exasperated. 

“Very impressive Bo, now get out of the water.” His voice still unmoved, he's apparently immune to his friend's antics after all this time. Bokuto chooses to climb out on the other side of the bank, the one with the concrete footing, you notice. You look at the mud around you, apparently he isn't the only one here with dumb first instincts. 

You look around and realise there's no way to get up without risking the phones. “Akaashi?” You call up to the bridge sheepishly. You hope you look apologetic.

His head appears over the railing as he looks down at you, you wave the phones at him and gesture to your stuck self, you can hear his sigh from here. “Coming.”

They decide to walk you all the way home, despite your insistence that Bokuto was going to catch his death if he didn't get out of his wet clothes. You must have looked like quite the sight, two of you covered in mud, the third leaving dirty puddles everywhere whenever he stood still for more than a moment. 

You say your goodbyes at the front door, waiting for them to be out of sight before you peel your shoes and trousers off outside, worried about what you'd be traipsing into the house otherwise. The owl will have to survive the night outside. 

You get up to your room without being spotted, grab your pyjamas and head for the bathroom, more than ready for that bath you've been dreaming about all day... you look down at the dirty streaks on your legs, ok, shower first, but then you're definitely having that bath.

Mid-soak you hear your message alert chime from the floor, you dry your hands and reach down to open it. 

Unknown Number..  
Are you ok??  
I made Akaashi give me your number  
So if you're mad, be mad at me!  
But please don't be mad ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡ 

You smile as you save his number, you're not mad. 

You..  
I'm ok. Are you?  
Please tell me you've changed out of those clothes?

You settle back into the hot water, resting your head on the lip of the bath. He replies quickly, it's a picture message. You open the image to see a pair of bare, but definitely clean feet. 

Bokuto..  
All clean!  
A little cold water could never hurt me (o˘◡˘o) 

You laugh and put the phone down, a minute later it chimes again.

Bokuto..  
Did you clean up ok?

You press your phone to your lips thinking, you shrug, opening your camera, you take a photo of your feet in the bath water, You check the water doesn't look dirty before you hit send, you've been embarrassed enough for one night.

You..  
All clean :) 

Bokuto..  
＼(＾▽＾)／ 

You snort a laugh. Ridiculous man. A few minutes later your phone chimes again, he's nothing if not persistent. It's another picture message. You open this one to see a close up of his face, mostly his tongue, still tinted blue from the snow cone earlier. 

Bokuto..  
Is this normal?? Σ(°△°|||)︴ 

You laugh out loud this time. You take a photo of your tongue, it's still blue too. You send it to him. 

You..  
I don't know if it's normal  
But we do match! 

You climb out of the bath, pulling the plug, tiredness catching up with you. 

Bokuto..  
(❤ω❤) 

You roll your eyes as you climb into your bed. 

You..  
Goodnight Bokuto x

You hit send before you consider if the 'x' is appropriate, tiredness and affection blurring the lines. Your last thought that night is of him, soaking wet and smiling at you under the lamp light.

The next two weeks carry on much the same as before, you go to class, you study, you work with Akaashi. The only real change has been the dozens of messages you get a day from Bokuto. 

He says good morning and goodnight, he asks what you're doing, how your day is going, if he knows you're with Akaashi he asks you to pass on messages because Akaashi apparently never replies to him. 

He also sends photos, food he's eating, selfies from the gym, teammates from volleyball practice, and others, a flower he saw on his way to class one morning that he thought you might like, a cloud in the shape of a bear, then there was a leaf he swore on his life looked like a sleeping Akaashi, that had left you in tears, laughing at the man in question's offended expression when you'd shown it to him. 

Then, one morning during class, you're listening to your lecturer speak when you hear a distinctly familiar “Hey hey hey!” echoing from the direction of the hallway. You glance at an alarmed looking Akaashi, he's staring hard enough to burn a hole in the classroom door. It's at that moment the bell rings and the door swings open as Bokuto steps through it. 

You swallow your laugh, quietly impressed at his ability to make a grand entrance. He scans the rows of students before he finds you both. He waves excitedly, “Akaashi!” 

The whole room turns to look in your direction, you offer a sympathetic pat on the shoulder to your friend as colour floods into his cheeks and he looks like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him. Poor Akaashi.

When Bokuto finally reaches you he seems oblivious to Akaashi's horror, throwing an arm around each of you and squeezing tight. You have just enough time to grab your bag as he starts pulling you both towards the door, excited to be able to go for lunch together.

You're a little surprised when you catch a glimpse of a manhandled Akaashi and see that he's smiling, it's small, but it's definitely a smile. It warms your heart to see it. 

He takes you both into town to a new Gyu-Kaku restaurant. He's overwhelmingly excited about grilling his own meat and the amount he manages to eat is truly impressive, you'd swear you saw him swallow some of it whole, like a snake.

You give up long before he's done, stuffed to the brim with the meat and vegetables they seemed to be taking in turns to pile onto your plate. You lean back in the booth, happily listening to the two of them reminisce about their high school days. You don't notice when your eyes get heavy.

You're woken up by a hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you. You open your eyes sleepily, Akaashi smiles at you, taking your hand and gently pulling you up. “Come on. It's time to go.”

It's jarring to get outside and realise it's still the afternoon, you feel like you could sleep for a month. You know already there's no way you're making it to your class later, writing off the day as a loss seems like the easier answer. You yawn loudly, not unhappy about the prospect of just going home to bed. 

“Akaashi, look!” you automatically look towards the excited voice. He's pointing at the batting cages. “We haven't done this in ages!” Before anyone can reply he heads into the building, you look at Akaashi, he sighs, and you both follow him in. 

He's already letting himself into a cage when you catch up to him. Bouncing a little on the balls of his feet as he finds his stance, the first ball comes towards him at an alarming speed. He swings, his timing perfect, as the ball cracks against the bat and shoots away. He gives a happy sounding hoot as he lines up another. 

You can't say you're not impressed, but you're definitely more surprised when you see Akaashi opening the cage beside him. You watch, transfixed as he swings the bat nonchalantly before knocking the ball into the far netting. 

“Nice, Akaashi!” Bokuto smiles broadly before hitting another. He looks back at you, he cocks his head towards the cages, “You're not gonna?”

You smile and shake your head, “I've never done it.”

His mouth falls open, “Never? Not even softball at school?”

You shake your head again, “I ran track, I never did team sports.”

His face breaks into a grin, “Akaashi did you know that? She runs, too!”

Akaashi hits another ball before glancing over to you. “I knew.”

You can't say you remember ever mentioning it, he must have a better memory than you give him credit for. 

Bokuto looks back to you and gestures you towards him, he opens the cage door and hands you his bat. You stare blankly at it, more than a little nervous about how much that ball will hurt if it hits you. You don't step forward. 

“I'll show you how.” His voice is right next to your ear, not exactly quiet, but a lot softer than you're used to hearing him. He wraps his arms around you, hands over yours as you hold the bat. The smell of him overwhelms you, he smells like fresh sweat and bbq smoke and lord help you but you kind of like it. 

He moves your feet apart, and sort of wobbles you back and for, you stumble a little and he huffs a laugh in your ear. “You're so tense! You have to be looser,” He shakes you again, before repeating himself, stretching the word out as he does it, “Looooooooser.” You laugh as you let him move you around. He smiles, pleased. “Much better.”

He swings the bat with you a couple of times, showing you how to move your hips and feet when you hit the ball. You finally get brave enough to try your first one, he stays with you for it. He whispers “Now.” at the moment you swing. 

When you connect the reverberation takes you by surprise and you drop the bat, he catches it before it can clatter to the floor. You shake your hands as the weird feeling fizzes through your bones. He looks concerned. “Did that hurt?” You shake your head, you reassure him that it didn't hurt, you just weren't expecting it. He smiles, “One more, then.”

He let's you do this one yourself, you get the timing wrong and miss twice in a row. You let out an annoyed huff, you're about to complain that you can't do it when you feel something soft press against your face. You turn to find it's Bokuto, his lips against your cheek. You feel your skin start to get warm as he smiles down at you, “For luck.” He moves away again and you swallow, refocusing your attention back on the job at hand.

When you connect, you swear you can feel it vibrate your teeth. It doesn't go as far or as high as theirs had, but still, you hit it. 

You throw your arms up in the air and turn to Bokuto who woops in excitement, “Nice kill!” You're laughing as he jogs over and pulls you into a hug, “Bokuto's luck never fails, right Akaashi?” he looks over to his friend.

You turn to see him stepping out of his cage, he looks over and nods, “Never.” his voice seems flatter than normal. You watch him, concerned, as he heads over to the vending machines. Bokuto checks the time and groans loudly, he has to get to the gym for practice. 

You both head over to Akaashi, Bokuto says his goodbyes and jogs out of the building, stopping once at the door to wave at you both before leaving.

You look at Akaashi and smile, still proud. “I hit the ball.”

He laughs softly, “I saw. It was very impressive.”

You roll your eyes and nudge his shoulder playfully. “Sweet talker.” 

Maybe you'll make that class after all.

One Friday night, the two of you are sat in the library alone working out some of the final pieces of your project, when Akaashi's phone rings, it's Bokuto.

You can hear the background noise from your seat across the table, the sound of music and people obvious even from here.

Akaashi turns the volume down before returning it to his ear. “What?” There's a pause, “Why?” he sighs, heavily. “No.” He hangs up the phone, looking irritated. 

Your phone rings, it's Bokuto. You smile apologetically at Akaashi as you answer, his face becoming more annoyed by the second. “Hello?”

Bokuto talks fast, getting all his words out before you can hang up on him too. There's a “small party” happening at their apartment, can you please bring more booze. “Pretty please, you're the nicest, prettiest, kindest person I've ever met.” 

You laugh, finding his behaviour surprisingly endearing. “Send the money over.” 

“Yes!” He hangs up the phone without even saying goodbye. 

Akaashi gives you a bland look, “Really?”

You shrug, “Flattery will get you everywhere.” You start to pack up your things, “Come on, you can help me carry it back.” He follows you without too much complaint. 

The “small party” turns out to be a surprisingly large number of people crammed into their two bedroom apartment. 

“Hey hey hey!” He greets you loudly at the door, he looks at the bags in your hands and bounces excitedly, taking them from you just to dump them straight into Akaashi's already full hands. He picks you up and spins you, “You're the best.” You blush a little when he puts you down, grabbing all of the alcohol from Akaashi and heading back into the party. You hear a cheer go up as he announces the delivery.

You smile at Akaashi, “I should probably go.” You head for the door but he catches your arm, you look up at him surprised.

“Why don't you stay?” He asks, tentatively. You look around, it occurs to you that this doesn't really seem like his kind of environment, and you did bring more booze, you really shouldn't abandon him now. He smiles at you when you agree. 

He grabs you a couple of drinks and you both hover in the kitchen. He tells you about the people there he knows, you share a couple of laughs at the expense of the more drunk guests, before you realise it a couple of hours have slipped by and you're both more than a few drinks in yourselves. 

Akaashi has the start of a drunk blush spreading across his nose and this time, when it occurs to you how pretty he is, it's not tinged with so much disappointment. You really like spending time with him, for the first time since you met him you think you're glad you never told him. This way is good, too.

A new song starts and you hear Bokuto cheer from the other room, he pops his head into the kitchen and grins when he spots you both. “Akaashi! Come dance with me!”

“No.” The denial is immediate and you can't help but feel bad for Bokuto as he pouts. His attention then turns to you and he grins. Oh no. You shake your head emphatically.

“Come onnn.” He whines, “It's my favourite song! Please? Pretty please?” He gives you the most convincing puppy dog eyes you've ever seen and you feel your resolve crack. 

You groan loudly but he still looks hopeful. Fine. “One song.” You can't help but smile when his face lights up. How Akaashi ever says no to him, you'll never know. 

He grabs your hand and starts to drag you towards the living room/temporary dancefloor. You hold out your drink and Akaashi takes it with your thanks, you're laughing as he pulls you away. 

He drags you into the group of people dancing, keeping you close to him as he moves to the music. He takes your arm and spins you to face away from him, then he presses up close behind you and rocks you back and for against him. You feel yourself start to get warm. 

You look towards the door and see Akaashi watching, you smile and gesture for him to come join you. He shakes his head slightly, you pout but he waves you off. 

You find yourself distracted when Bokuto's hands slip down your waist and onto your hips, he leans close to your ear, “This is the best bit, ready?”

Before you can respond, he rolls his hips to the music, knocking you forward as you almost overbalance. Taken by surprise you laugh, loudly. He laughs with you, pulling you close to him again. This time when it comes, he wraps his forearm around your waist, keeping your body pinned to his. You get it right this time, your bodies moving together in a way that makes your skin tingle. 

You look over to the doorway for Akaashi but he's not there anymore. You can't think too much of it though, as Bokuto takes up all of your attention, laughing as he sings while you dance together. Before the song ends, he spots someone in the crowd. “Oh, sweet.” He looks at you, “Go find Akaashi. I'll be back now.”

You do as you're told but you can't find any trace of him. You guess he must either be in his room or the bathroom, both doors being locked. Just as you're wondering if maybe you should leave, Bokuto reappears with three drinks in his hand. He looks at you, questioning. You shake your head, “No sign.”

He looks around briefly over the tops of everyone's heads. After a second he shrugs and hands you a drink, taking your other hand and pulling you through the apartment and into his room. He shoos two people you don't recognise off of his bed, mid-make out, chasing them out of the room before locking the door behind them. 

You stand awkwardly by his desk as he opens the window and drops heavily onto the floor. He looks up at you and pats the floor next to him as he pulls out a pre-rolled joint and a lighter. 

You sit down beside him as he lights it, your backs against the wall as you take turns passing it between you. The effect on him is almost immediate, he smiles contentedly, his eyes barely open as he leans his head back and looks at the ceiling. 

His voice sounds relaxed, almost dream like, and you find yourself listening to him intently as he talks about nothing much at all. At some point you notice his gaze has swung around to you, looking down at you affectionately. He talks about you then, sweet words and easy compliments that leave you feeling off balance, you swallow, your mouth feels dry.

You take a sip of your drink as he turns towards you, his hand reaching up slowly to move your hair away from your face. He tucks it behind your ear before running the back of his fingers against your jaw, he looks at your lips before meeting your eyes. You're not sure when you both stopped speaking, but the silence suddenly feels deafening. 

He smiles bashfully before turning away. Sighing dramatically before dropping himself into your lap to use you as a pillow. He covers his face with one arm, “Stupid.” he mutters to himself.

Your fingers twitch, unsure if you should touch him. When it doesn't seem like he's going to be moving any time soon, you reach out, running your fingers lightly over his hair. Even with product in, it's softer than you'd expected. Your fingers slide through it easily. 

He moves his arm so it's only covering his mouth, his large golden eyes staring up at you in the dim lighting as you stroke his hair. You smile down at him, you don't know why he seems sad, but you know you want to make him feel better. 

“What would you do if I kissed you?” His voice his muffled by his arm, but not enough to mishear him.

You look down at him, thinking. You don't know. “I don't know.” 

He sits up and turns to face you. He licks his lips as he looks at you, considering. He leans in slowly and you don't pull away. His lips press against yours, firm but gentle. Your stomach explodes with butterflies when you realise he's actually kissing you. 

His tongue briefly grazes your lower lip, when it comes again, you allow him into your mouth without resistance. You feel him exhale through his nose as he moves more into your space, his kiss becoming more insistent. 

He brings his hand to your face, moving you closer to him before sliding it into your hair, it comes to a rest on the back of your neck. You feel his hand flex against you, his body tensing as he fights the urge to pull you into him. 

You melt into his kiss, resting your hand on his shirt, you notice you can feel his heart hammering in his chest. You smile against his kiss. You pull away, “Are you nervous?”

He shuts his eyes and offers you a grin, embarrassed. “Either that or I'm having a heart attack.”

He's so earnest. You're not sure you've ever met anyone has openly upfront as him. This time it's you that kisses him. You pull him towards you by his shirt front, his eyes popping open before your lips meet his. 

Now that you're more sure, something in him shifts and the atmosphere around him changes. He kisses you with purpose, his intensity building as his attention becomes more insistent, his tongue more forceful, his movements firmer. His hands run along your waist, he pulls at your body. You agree, you're not close enough. 

He pulls you towards him as he leans his back against the foot of the bed, moving you into his lap. You go willingly, kneeling between his legs as you kiss. His hands run the length of your body again, his grip firm as they meet your hips, squeezing them tightly. 

He breaks away from you to pull his shirt over his head, eager to feel you touch his bare skin. You swallow when you see his body, it's beyond toned, rippling with muscle and deliciously smooth as he pulls you against him.

His arms wrap around your waist as he kisses you, you shiver as his hands slide under your shirt, one resting between your shoulders as the other slips his fingers under the waist band of your trousers, he's using both to keep you close. 

You move away enough to remove your top. He takes a long inhale through his nose as he looks down your body, you feel yourself start to get embarrassed, he's openly staring. His hands move to your waist, his thumbs running along your bare skin as he presses his lips to yours again. 

You feel his intensity dial up another notch, he kisses you hungrily, wanting more, he undoes your trousers before pulling you against him again, torn between getting you undressed and wanting you closer, desperately chasing the next step as the two of you explore each other. 

You hear a crash come from the next room and remember the party is still going, you both look at the door, trying to listen over the sounds of your panting. When the shouting starts he turns to you, pressing his lips to yours once, firmly. “Don't go anywhere.”

He stands and heads out the door, still topless and now kind of annoyed. The door closes behind him and you're left in silence. You stand up, restless, and catch sight of yourself in his mirror, flushed pink and stripped down to your bra. It dawns on you that you're probably about to have sex with Bokuto and your eyes go wide. 

You sit on the edge of his bed and cover your mouth, thinking. You run your tongue along your lip, you can still taste him. Then you realise you're smiling, smiling so hard it hurts. When was the last time someone made you feel this way? You lie back on the bed and press your hands to your face. Every inch of you feels electrified, you're excited, you realise. You want this.

You haven't moved when you hear the bedroom door open behind you. You swallow as your heart starts to drum against your ribs. You tip your head back from your place on the mattress, he looks upside down from here. 

He's in the doorway, still shirtless, resting an arm on the top of the doorframe as he looks down at you laid out on his bed. The silence is heavy, “Is everything ok?” Your voice is little more than a whisper. 

He nods, eyes still locked on you. “Everyone's gone.” 

There's something different about him, he looks confident but pulled taught, like the doorway is the only thing keeping him restrained. You watch his fingers stroke the skin of his bare chest as he stares. You shiver at the unstated implication. “Everyone?”

He nods. You think about leaving, too, but right this second you can't find a reason to. Everything in you wants to be here. You smile. “Good.”

He smiles back, his usual playful excitedness giving way to something more focused and predatory as he steps through the door and closes it behind him. 

You lie still, waiting for him. He kneels by the bed near your head. “I was hoping you'd feel that way.” he leans over you to press his lips to yours, choosing the angle that keeps him upside down. 

It's awkward at first, you've never done it like this before. But he smiles against your kiss and when you feel his fingers brush your chest, your movements become more instinctive, all concern about being awkward or clumsy pushed aside by plain old want and need. 

He presses his palm flat against your chest as he kisses you, sliding it between your breasts and down your stomach. You're reminded that he'd already undone your trousers when his hand pushes easily into your underwear, the sensation of his touch on your bare sex so intense that your hips lift from the bed to push against him, as you let out a surprised moan that he seems to drink down greedily. 

His touch is clumsy, but you don't care. His calloused palm providing more than enough friction to make you eager for more as he grinds it against you. It doesn't take long before the anticipation gets to be too much for you, you want him. Now, preferably. 

You pull away and look up at him. “Bokuto?” 

“Koutarou.” He states simply, before kissing you again. 

You smile, “Koutarou?” 

He murmurs happily to himself. “It sounds so good when you say it.” he slides a finger along your slit, humming, pleased when he finds you wet for him. “Say it again?” His words muffled as he kisses you.

You laugh against his lips, pulling away from him so he'll listen to you properly. “Koutarou, have sex with me.”

He swallows audibly before a grin overtakes his face. He pulls away from you and stands, shedding his clothing eagerly, leaving you giggling as he has to hop on one leg to get his trousers off.

He goes to his nightstand to find a condom as you sit up on the bed to slip your trousers off, but before you can remove your underwear he catches your hand and stops you. “I want to.”

You stop, he pulls you up to standing. He wraps his arms around you and kisses you, deep and messy and eager. His voice is rough, “We were interrupted before but,” He looks down at the place he'd been sitting when you'd first kissed. “I really wanted to...”

You nod, you'd wanted it too. He smiles and takes your hand, biting the back of it playfully. He leads you back to the foot of the bed and takes his spot on the floor, before you can sit in his lap he holds you in place, stood over him.

He looks up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your underwear, you feel heat flood your face as he slides them down your thighs and helps you step out of them. His eyes level with your naked sex, he licks his lips as his eyes flick up to you. “You're so pretty.”

He presses his mouth to you and your whole body shudders, he pulls you to him as his tongue explores you, you dig your fingers into his shoulder as your body tries to fold in on itself. 

When you look down you can see him stroking himself with one hand as he goes down on you, the condom packet on the floor beside him. You want him. “Koutarou?” He hums happily against you, leaving your body tingling. He pulls away and looks up at you, his lips shining with your excitement. “The condom.”, you prompt.

You see him remember what he was meant to be doing, you smile fondly as he gets himself back on track, pleased with how distracting he finds you. 

He slips his boxers off completely before putting the condom on, he shifts a little to get comfy before reaching for your hands, he guides you over him, helping you straddle his lap. You can hear his breath quicken, as you settle against him. 

Once you're comfy, you reach down between your legs and take a hold of him, both of you becoming more eager as you finally touch him. You line him up against you and stop, looking at him intently. When he meets your eye, you smile, sliding down onto him slowly, until every inch of him is buried deep inside you. 

He's beautiful, you think. Watching as he loses himself to the sheer pleasure of you. You watch his eyebrows draw together, his mouth open as he lets out a breathy moan, before his eyes close and he leans forward, pressing his head against your chest. He swears under his breath and you couldn't agree more, he feels amazing.

You bend your arms behind you and unhook your bra, discarding it thoughtlessly as you want nothing more than to have nothing left between you. 

He grips your hip with one hand as the other reaches for your breast, he brings your nipple to his lips and sucks eagerly. You rest your hands on his shoulders as you roll your hips against him, he moans and it spurs you on. 

You lift your hips, unsheathing him halfway before dropping your weight onto him again, he gives a pleased hum as your tits bounce against his face. You do it again and you feel his grip tighten on your hip as he pulls you back down onto him, quicker than before. 

He pulls away from your breasts as his concentration pin points to where he's buried in you. He slides his free hand under your backside, bracing your weight as you lift yourself before he pulls you back onto him. 

After a few minutes your legs start to shake as his pace never falters. You take a moment and rolls your hips against him instead, buying yourself a minute while you wonder and how much stamina he has. 

It doesn't distract him for long though and you feel him adjust his position a little before bracing his feet on the floor and thrusting up to meet you. You gasp at the unexpected force of him, he kisses you as he grunts, desperate for more of you. 

He shifts again, forward this time, lifting you easily enough and wrapping your legs around his waist. He slips deeper into you that before and you moan as the friction between you rubs against your clit as your bodies become entwined. 

He slips his hands under your thighs and bounces you onto him, He moans your name into your neck as you both chase your climax, your body in sync with his in a way you haven't experienced before. He feels right. 

When you feel the flicker of release spark low in your belly you know you won't be long. “Kou,” 

Before you can say anything else his lips are on yours and his pace becomes unforgiving as he pounds himself into you. It pushes you over the edge and the release is divine. 

You lean back as you ride it out, his hands on your chest and the small of your back as he grinds you against him as you cum, dragging your orgasm out until the sensitivity is overwhelming and you have to tell him to stop. 

He collapses against your chest, panting, his forehead damp with sweat as you breathe together in the dark. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, holding him as you both come down. 

When he finally looks up at you he's smiling, his usual placid smile back in place of his predatory one. You laugh quietly, you could get used to both sides of him. “I'm so tired.”

You pat his shoulder, “Poor Koutarou.” 

He grins at you again, “It really does sound good when you say it.”

You roll your eyes as you ease yourself off of him, your legs shaking like you'd run a marathon. When you're moving less like Bambi, you start to gather your clothes.

He drops himself heavily onto the bed, entirely naked and not at all self-conscious. He watches you, his tone concerned. “You're not staying?”

You look at the clothes in your hand and know you're not. You look over at him as you start to get dressed, you smile at him apologetically. “I shouldn't.”

He cocks his head at you, confused. “Why not?”

You think about it for a minute as you dress, you're not sure. You sit down on the bed next to him, leaning down to kiss him, long and slow. When you pull away his eyes are slow to open again, he looks up at you happily. “Walk me to the door?” His eyebrows knit together a little but he doesn't argue, standing up and grabbing a pair of shorts to put on. 

You swing the bedroom door open and come face to face with Akaashi stepping out of his room. You freeze to the spot. Akaashi. Looking at him suddenly fills you with guilt, how could you have forgotten about him?

He looks between the two of you and his features go still. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto exclaims loudly, “where did you go? We were looking for you.”

He shrugs, “I'm tired Bokuto.” He looks at you briefly before immediately looking away. “Goodnight.” He closes the door on you both and you feel something heavy settle in your gut. He seemed upset. 

You slept with his friend, you think, you didn't even consider how he'd feel about it. You should've... 

“Are you ok?” Bokuto leans around you to look at you. You nod, moving towards the front door. 

The apartment is destroyed, you offer to stay and help him clean up but he's adamant that that can be tomorrow's problem. 

He hovers at the front door awkwardly, unsure of what to do after you refuse to let him walk you home. 

“So,” his usual confident voice is tinged with uncertainty, “when can we do this again?”

You bite your lip, conflicted. “Bokuto, I like you...”

He hangs his head, “Don't say 'but'.”

You give him a sad smile, “but,” he swings his head up to look at the ceiling, your heart breaks a little at the sight. “but, I'm too busy right now for a relationship.” It's not a lie, all you do is study and attend classes, you'd barely see each other.

He shrugs, easily. “So am I.” He meets your eye, “It doesn't have to be anything serious.”

You feel your conviction waver. 

He steps towards you, leaning to one side to get into your eye line. “No strings attached,” he continues, “no pressure,” he takes your hand in his, “I just want to spend time with you, same as before,” he presses your fingers to his lips, smiling devilishly, “with maybe a little more of that to go with it.” He bounces his eyebrows suggestively and knows he's won you over when you start to laugh. 

It's tempting, you have to admit. But you can't shake that last bit of doubt, so you ask. “Why me?”

He cocks his head at you, confused. “Why not you?”

You roll your eyes, “That's not an answer.”

He shrugs again as he nuzzles his cheek against your hand. “I dunno, because you're hot, Akaashi likes you, we have fun... I want to?” He punctuates it with another shrug.

You shake your head, disbelieving. “Simple as that?”

He blinks at you owlishly, “Does it have to be more complicated?”

The man has a point, you realise. 

You smile, defeated and he knows it. He grins at you, kissing the back of your hand before releasing you. “On one condition,” your voice is firm, it's a deal breaker, “Akaashi has to be ok with it.”

He sticks out his hand for you to shake, “Deal.”

You smile as you shake it, what have you gotten yourself in for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a second part, but probably not next, I'm trying not to break my brain again like with Mattsun lol.
> 
> Also, I don't know if anyone would be interested, but the song he's dancing to (in my head) is Don't Tell 'Em by Jeremih, mainly because I'm in love with the way Youngbeen Joo from 1Million Dance Studio moves lol. (If you watch the video, he's the one in the red trousers and I am obsessed.)


	10. Stand By Me - Bokuto Koutarou x Akaashi Keiji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things become more complicated between you and your two favourite owls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it shorter than the last one? Yes.  
> Is it because I had to cut the outline into two halves because it was too long? Also yes.  
> So I'm sorry, and you're welcome.

“You won a prize?”

You glance up from your conversation with Akaashi into the golden eyes of Bokuto, towel still over his head, returning from his post-practice shower. 

You're wearing a smug smile as you lean back into the sofa. “We did.” You'd finally presented the project you'd been working on for the last month with Akaashi, your group getting the highest mark of the department and being rewarded with tickets to the Winter Formal, a charity event being held on Christmas eve. “We get to dress up and be fancy for an evening for free.”

He stops drying his hair, dropping the towel to his shoulders. “Christmas eve?” You nod your head and he pouts, “You guys get to spend so much time together.”

His disappointment is palpable and you wonder if there might be any tickets left, it was still weeks away yet after all. He continues, perking up a little. “We're still on for this weekend though, right, Akaashi?” 

The man sitting beside you cringes. “I was hoping you'd forgotten.” his voice is strained.

Bokuto looks indignant, “Of course I wouldn't forget your birthday!” Akaashi's ears turn a little pink as you turn to face him, shocked.

“Is it?” You can't believe he hadn't mentioned it.

Bokuto answers first, looking proud. “I've already booked the room.”

Akaashi's face takes on a horrified expression, “Not karaoke again?” You try to picture him getting up in front of a room full of people to sing, you just can't see it. You pat his arm sympathetically. Poor Akaashi.

It was nice for things to feel normal again between the three of you, the few weeks after that first night with Bokuto having been uncharacteristically tense. 

You'd thought for a while that the idea had just been too weird for Akaashi, not that you would've blamed him. You'd considered calling it all off a few times, but when nothing had changed dynamically, it had seemed to settle, and, other than an uptick in Bokuto's more suggestive jokes, things had all but returned to normal.

Akaashi checks the time on his phone and sighs, “I'd better go.”

You sit forward a little in your seat as he stands, “TA meeting?” he nods and you pull a face. Your TA is the worst. “Have fun.” He waves your comment off as he grabs his coat and heads out.

Bokuto drops down heavily into Akaashi's vacated seat beside you. When the apartment door closes he gives you a knowing grin and leans in towards you. You huff a laugh, “So eager.”

He presses a lingering kiss against your lips, “Well you are abandoning me for Christmas, I have to make the most of you while I can.” He moves his attentions to your neck, kissing along the sensitive skin behind your ear.

You roll your eyes, smiling. “It's one night.”

You shiver as he nips at your earlobe, his voice husky, “I could get a lot done in one night.” 

He wraps his arm around your waist as he coaxes you into laying down, sighing softly as he lies on top of you, his body pressing against yours comfortably.

You turn your face towards him and accept his kiss willingly, wrapping your arms around his neck and hitching your leg up against his hip, allowing him to lazily grind against you. 

He moves his lips to the other side of your neck, seemingly happy to take his time today. As good as it feels, his lack of urgency does give your mind a chance to wander for once, suddenly unsure if you should be doing this here out in the open. 

“Kou?” He acknowledges you with a hum as he kisses a line along your collarbone. “Should we go to your room?”

“I like it here.” His hand works his way under your top and along your stomach, your body reacting to his touch as he leaves a trail of goosebumps along your skin. 

He pushes your top up exposing your bra, pressing his nose against your chest as he nuzzles into you playfully. “You've got great tits, you know that?”

You huff a laugh, looking down at him. “So you've said.” You run your fingers through his hair affectionately, enjoying the sensation of it being freshly washed and product-free for once. “I like your hair like this, I never see it this way.” You smile as you press your face to the top of his head, inhaling the smell of his shampoo. 

He looks up at you, his eyes distractingly large. “That's because you never stay.” You don't miss the trace of accusation in his tone. 

You sigh, “Kou..” you've had this conversation before. “No strings remember?” you try to reason. “Staying is strings.” 

He stops his heavy petting of you and exhales through his nose, looking away from you as he rests his head on your chest as you continue to stroke his hair. You wish you understood why this seemed like such a sticking point for him, you know there's something else he wants to say but, like before, whatever it is, he chooses to keep it to himself. 

When he wordlessly gets up off of you and heads for the kitchen, you know you're both done for the night. You scrub your hands over face and let out a sigh before sitting up and straightening your clothes. You start to gather your stuff, not wanting to make things worse. 

“You're leaving?” you hate how he sounds. 

You glance towards the kitchen door and smile apologetically. “I probably should.” When he doesn't respond you brace yourself against the guilt that's eating away at you. 

When you stand to leave and he doesn't make a move to walk you to the door, you go to him instead. He looks down at his feet instead of at you. You wish you knew what he was thinking. But he doesn't want to tell you, and you have no right to ask. You both agreed, no pressure, so you wouldn't pressure him. 

You reach up and stroke his cheek, wanting to offer some kind of comfort without pushing. You hate leaving him like this but it's better this way, you think. 

You stretch up onto your toes to kiss him goodbye. When he turns away at the last second you're surprised at how much that little rejection of you stings. You kiss his cheek instead. “See you later, Kou.” You leave without a response. 

He barely messages you for the rest of the week and you hate how much you miss him, you'd gotten so used to him constantly badgering you that without it things just feel... quiet. 

After your last class on Friday, Akaashi waits for you to pack your things away. “Are you coming to ours or meeting us there?” When your only response is to stare blankly at him he continues, his tone leading. “Karaoke?”

You can't believe you forgot. “Akaashi, it's your birthday!” You don't miss the little snort he does as he watches realisation hit you, you've been with him for hours now so you guess it is a little late in the day to point it out.

He shakes his head, a forgiving smile on his face. “Just the party, technically the day is tomorrow.” That actually makes you feel a little better. Maybe you could get him a present in the morning?

“Can I meet you there?” You look at your clothes. “I need to change.” He nods and agrees to send you directions before leaving the classroom. It's only after he's gone you think of Bokuto, you can't help but wonder if he even still wants you there.

You arrive late, of course, the wait for the shower taking so much longer than necessary because, honestly, who thought five girls sharing one bathroom was a good idea? 

Akaashi had insisted casual was fine but you'd still felt the need to try at least a little, the cold weather leaving you to settle on a low cut, long sleeved top and a long skirt. When you get there you're greeted by the birthday boy himself, he offers you a smile despite your lateness. “You look really nice.” 

When you get inside you're alarmed to find more than a dozen people crammed into the one room, the majority of them extremely tall men. Akaashi says he'll get you a drink and leaves you hovering awkwardly by the door. 

As you step out of the way of one volleyball giant, you feel yourself step on the foot of another. You turn to apologise but swallow it down when you have to crane your neck up just to meet his eye, he's even taller than Bokuto. Handsome, too. “S-sorry.” you manage to stutter out.

He smiles down at you. “It's ok.” His gaze wanders down to your chest, pausing briefly before his warm charcoal eyes meet yours again. “Your necklace is lovely.” 

You touch your pendant absently. “Th-thank you.” You manage to say to his back as he returns to his seat. You take a moment to try and get a handle on how flustered you feel. 

When Akaashi reappears with your drink in hand, you inflate your cheeks and blow out a heavy sigh, annoyed. “Why are you all so pretty?” His eyes widen a little in surprise as he gives you a half hearted shrug and he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. You notice his ears have turned pink.

“Oh.” You remember his gift, you pull out a gacha capsule and hand it to him with a smile, “Happy Birthday!” When he gives you a confused look you promise that it's just a place holder gift, you just didn't feel right showing up entirely empty handed. He cracks it open and pours a little plastic owl on a keychain into the palm of his hand. It looks like the one from the funfair. He thanks you quietly as he slips it into his pocket.

The night passes in a blur of questionable singing and alcohol.

To your surprise Akaashi does get up to sing a couple of times, his voice sweet and reedy before being inevitably drowned out by his overexcited audience. Less surprisingly, Bokuto sings, a lot, usually with a teammate or two. They both seem to be enjoying themselves, and even if Bokuto has barely said a word to you all night you find you're still happy to see them this way.

When the room's allotted time is coming to a close Bokuto tries to get Akaashi to sing the last song of the night, when that fails, he takes it upon himself to do it. As you're filming his best performance of the night you find that you can't look away from him. Something pulls in your chest, uncomfortably aware of how much you like him. You finish your drink in one go before standing and heading to the bathroom, more than a little tipsy. 

On your return you bump into the giant from earlier. He puts a hand on your shoulder as he looks down at you. “Are you ok?”, his voice is kind. You offer him a half smile in return, suddenly flustered. You freeze when he reaches towards your chest, eyes widening as the back of his fingers brush against your skin as he lifts your pendant. “Your necklace really is lovely.”

You feel warmth flood into your cheeks as he smiles down at you, unsure of what to say.

“Washio.” Bokuto's voice breaks the uncomfortable silence, “What have I told you about scaring the pretty girls?” His tone is joking but you don't miss the meaningful look he gives the other man as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, his large hand covering both the pendant and your cleavage from his view. 

Washio glances between the two of you, looking abashed, he apologises before Bokuto says one of the other guys was looking for him and he heads back into the now emptying room. 

Bokuto releases you and you immediately miss his touch. He turns to look at you, concern etched into his face. You speak before he can, thoughts of him singing to Akaashi flooding your mind. “You were wonderful up there.”

He actually turns a little pink at your words, he looks everywhere but at you as he clears his throat. When he speaks his voice sounds unsure, “Do you think I could walk you home?” He smiles when you nod. 

He's a little more subdued than usual but it still feels powerfully good to just walk and talk and joke with him all the way to your front door. 

You pause on the step, looking back at him, you've missed his company this week. “I'm glad you're my friend again.” You mean it.

He gives you a half hearted smile, “Is that all I am?”

No, you think, nowhere near. You turn to face him, “You're special.” when you reach for his shirt he lets you pull him towards you effortlessly, “You're the only friend I can do this with.” 

You press your lips to his, he's tense for a second before he responds, pushing you back against the door and kissing you roughly. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. You don't want to say goodbye. “Do you want to come up?”

When you open the door the heat hits you like a physical wall, he recoils, laughing. “Why is it so hot?” You hush him and close the door behind you. “You know, I've never seen your room before.” you shush his ridiculously loud whispering before taking his hand and pulling him towards the stairs.

Before even turning the light on in your room, you shed your coat at the door, immediately heading to the window and opening the curtains. You push the window open as wide as it'll go, grabbing a hair tie from your desk and scraping your hair up into a loose knot on the top of your head, you fan cold air onto the back of your neck as you lean out of the window. “I'm so sick of living in a sauna.”

You jump a little as Bokuto's arms wrap around your waist. “This whole room smells of you.” His lips are pressed close to your ear, “I like it.” He tightens his grip around you as he kisses your neck and you shiver despite the warmth. 

He presses himself against you, trapping you between him and the open window, “The second you walked in tonight I wanted to tell you how pretty you looked.” He massages your waist through your clothes as he talks. “But Washio beat me to it.” He reaches up and tips your head to one side, exposing more of your neck to his attentions, you feel your body sink into his arms. You've missed him. “Did you like him?” 

He speaks between kisses, the question confuses you. “Who?”

“Washio.” You look back at him over your shoulder, his face is buried in your neck, his tone melancholy.

Realisation hits you, “You're jealous?” 

He squeezes you closer to him. “Only if you like him.”

Something flutters in your chest, you wonder why that means so much to you. You shake your head. “I like you.”

He finally meets your eye, you lift your chin in response, offering him your lips. He takes them greedily, his hands starting to wander your body freely.

He gets more insistent, quickly losing patience with your clothes, he pulls your top over your head, bending you forward to kiss between your shoulder blades as he fondles you. He yanks his shirt off, pressing his chest to your back as his hands slide around your hips and you feel him start to gather the material of your skirt up to your thighs. 

You gasp as he takes hold of your clothed sex firmly, grinding his palm against you, you can hear him undoing his belt with his free hand. You can't cover the quiver in your voice as anticipation flows through you. “We have to be quiet.” 

He grips the damp material of your underwear and yanks them down towards your knees roughly. He pulls up the back of your skirt as you bend forward, leaning out into the deliciously cool night air as he fumbles against you, erection in hand. He resorts to brute strength instead of any sort of finesse to get you at the right angle to enter you, pulling you up forcibly onto your tip toes so he can sheathe himself completely inside you.

He feels so good.

You brace yourself on the sill with one arm as the other reaches up and behind you, holding onto the back of his neck for purchase so you can kiss him while he fucks you. It's messy and awkward, but also electrifying and needy.

You get lost in an avalanche of sensation, his tongue in your mouth, the heat from the room, the cool kiss of the night air, the sheer force of him. You love how much he overwhelms your senses every time he takes you as his. 

His thrusts are shorter than usual, unwilling to risk slipping from you at this angle. He wraps an arm around your waist, pushing his hand up under the cup of your bra and firmly taking hold of your breast. He grunts into your kiss before breaking it, his pace quickly becoming unforgiving as your leg muscles start to burn, the physical strain only seeming to add to your heightening pleasure. 

He makes it impossible to stay quiet, air and sound being knocked out of you with every thrust, “Kou,” your voice carries a whine than only drives him on, “they'll hear.”

You feel cold air lick at your now abandoned exposed breast as a meaty hand clamps down over your mouth, muffling your sounds.

You reach up and grip his forearm, clinging to it as he pushes you forcefully into your orgasm, your knees buckle and your fingernails bite into his skin as he has to hold you up as your legs quake beneath you.

He releases you as he pulls out, panting heavily, before he literally sweeps you off your feet. You let out a surprised yelp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you to bed, laying you down with an unexpected gentleness before stripping the rest of his clothes off, “Condoms?”

You point to the drawer before unhooking your bra and dropping it to the floor, glad to be rid of it as he returns to you, slipping the skirt from your body and leaving you both entirely naked.

He lies his body on top of yours, kissing your chest and neck as he positions himself against you once more. He pauses before entering you, looking down at you with the most serious look you've ever seen on his face, his voice full of regret. “I've been lying to you.”

Your stomach lurches, dread washing through you.

“I want more.” he continues. You hear yourself swallow. “I want strings. I want you to stay. I want them to know you're taken. I want all of it.” 

He's so earnest. You think about how much you missed him this past week, how right he feels now. You want it, too. Your voice is a whisper. “Ok.”

He searches your face for a second, then he's on your lips, slow and deep as he pushes into you, making your still hyper sensitive nerve endings fire and spark as he fills you completely. 

He hitches your leg against his hip and takes a slow and meaningful pace, something he's never done before. You realise he isn't chasing some high or pushing for one of you to climax, he's just indulging in you, sweet and content and painfully intimate. 

You're not sure how long you stay this way, but when he finally finishes you're both past the point of exhaustion, able to do little more than pull the sheet over the pair of you and fall asleep with his arm around you, regardless of the heat.

You're woken up around dawn by Bokuto's voice whispering your name as he strokes your hair. You manage to crack open your eyelids, golden eyes meeting yours as he leans over you. Your heart swells when you remember last night, you could really fall in love with him. 

You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, “I gotta pee.”

You smother the anxious bark of laughter than almost escapes you into your pillow, cheeks flushing deeply at how close you were to confessing to him. You wave a hand in the direction of the door, “Down the stairs, second door on the left.”

He kisses your cheek in thanks before practically jogging out of the room. Belatedly you realise he's still naked, but you decide you're too tired to worry about that, choosing instead to pull up the sheet over your head to block out the offensively bright natural light.

You hear him return when your bedroom door shuts, quickly followed by the sound of him closing the curtains. Beautiful man. He shuffles around the room for a bit before speaking. “You kept it?”

You roll onto your back to look at him through one squinted eye, he's holding up the funfair owl for your inspection. 

“Of course.” You settle back into your pillow, closing your eyes. “It took weeks to get the swamp smell out of it.” He's quiet for a moment, then you feel the weight of him drop onto the mattress as he wraps his arms around you, pushing the owl into your hands and squeezing you both to his chest.

He presses his face into your hair, “I'm so happy.”

His reaction shocks you. “Yeah?” your voice is disbelieving.

He laughs happily, “Well, yeah, I wouldn't jump off a bridge to impress just anyone, you know?”

You pull away from him and stare back at him like he's a lunatic, remembering the night you'd met. “That was to impress me?”

He nods shamelessly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And then I got rug burn on my ass for you, as well.”

You have to cover your mouth and turn away as laughter bursts from you. He takes the opportunity to curl up against your back, nuzzling into your hair as he speaks, his tone admonishing. “Hey, don't laugh, it hurt like a bitch for days.”

He wraps his arms around you and you both relax into the creeping quiet, you feel him turn to deadweight as he falls back to sleep, your own eyelids growing heavy in response.

As you're dropping off you remember you're supposed to buying Akaashi's birthday present this morning. You feel around blindly for your phone, trying not to disturb your boyfriend sleeping beside you. 

Boyfriend. The thought takes you by surprise. You pay no mind to the smile it brings to your face.

When you find it you realise it's too late to risk going back to sleep now, you really should get up. You consider Bokuto's sleeping form. Even if you can't go back to sleep, it won't hurt to stay here a little longer yet.

You scroll idly through your newsfeed for a while before opening your camera to upload some photos from last night. You skim through them smiling, it had been a lot of fun. 

You come to the video of Bokuto singing to Akaashi at the end of the night and hit play, surprised again by how good of a rendition it really was. You watch, laughing, as Bokuto practically serenades Akaashi to the tune of Stand By Me. 

Last night you hadn't been able to take your eyes off him, being half drunk and as smitten as a kitten. Today your eyes settle on a furiously blushing Akaashi, his face in his hands for the first half of the song before Bokuto literally gets down on his knee in front of him. 

You watch his expression fondly before you feel a weird sensation settle into your chest. You skip the video back and watch it again, focusing in on his face. The way he's looking at Bokuto you'd almost swear that he looks like he's...

Oh no. No no no. You skip back through the other photos and videos you have of the night. Noting the way he looks at Bokuto in at least half of the photos, even if he's only in the background, his eye is always on him. You watch the video again, staring at the way he's blushing.

You press the phone to your mouth, panic building. You make a decision. You climb out of bed and dress yourself quickly. You find Bokuto's keys and lean down to shake his shoulder gently, “I have to pop out, I'll be back soon. I'm borrowing your keys.” You leave after he mumbles a sleepy acknowledgement.

When you get to their apartment, you knock on the door a few times with no luck, you apologise to no-one in particular when you slide the key into the lock and make your way in, stopping at Akaashi's closed bedroom door before knocking again.

You hear a muffled response and open the door, moving quickly towards him and kneeling next to his bed. He looks alarmed as he sits up, quickly pulling his blanket up to cover his bare chest.

“Akaashi.” your voice is strained, thrumming with anxiety. “are you in love with Bokuto?”

His face falls and your stomach sinks. His voice is shaky when he speaks, “How do you know?”

You cover your face, how could you be so dumb? You think of all the little times he seemed off when you'd started spending time with them, those moments where he seemed sad or uncomfortable. The funfair, the batting cages, the party, how upset he'd been to see you leaving his room that night. You'd thought it was just too weird for him, you'd thought...

When you look up at him again his image is distorted as fat tears spill from your eyes. “I'm sorry Akaashi, I'm so sorry.” You can't imagine how he must have felt. “I didn't know, I swear...” 

He pulls you against his bare chest. “Don't.” his voice is quiet but firm. “It's not your fault.”

You're crying properly now, your face pressed against his warm skin. “I never would've-” your voice hiccups, “If I'd known, I'd never-” You wouldn't have fallen in love with him. You can't bring yourself to say it.

“I know.” his tone is soothing as he rubs your back. Your guilt only increasing as he comforts you, even though you must have caused him so much hurt. “It's.. more complicated than I can explain..”

There's only one thought screaming in your mind. You try not to let your voice waver when you ask, “Do you want me to end things?”

Please, you think, please, please don't say yes.

You hate yourself for how relieved you are when he cuts you off with a firm no. “I was never going to tell him.” he tries to assure you but you don't know if you believe him. He looks you in the eye when he continues, his voice level. “I want him to be happy.”

You look up at him, your heart breaking in two for him. “But, what about you?”

He gives you a sad smile as he wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, it strikes you again how beautiful he is, even now. “I'm where I chose to be. It wasn't out of my control.”

When you get back to your room, you find Bokuto, still naked, sat up in bed, watching anime on your laptop, his chin resting on the stuffed owl. He looks up at you, smile wide on his face, “Your bed is so much more comfy than mine, why is th-” His face fills with concern as he looks at you more closely. “What's wrong?”

You can't help it as the guilt wells up in you and your eyes tear up again. You're afraid for what's going to happen to the three of you now, what you might lose. “I love you, Kou.” He puts the laptop to one side and gestures you towards him, you crawl into his arms and cry against his lap until the tears run dry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll I'm gonna go ahead and give a little spoiler right now, if bi-sexuality isn't your schwing then the third part will not be for you and you should probably tap out here lol.


	11. Two Becomes Three - Bokuto Koutarou x Akaashi Keiji Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas party leads to unexpected places for you and your boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long, it's a beast, the longest so far by quite a bit, mix that with a hectic couple of weeks and it just took so much longer than I was originally expecting. Also this one goes places. So. Much. Drama.

You're staring into the middle distance before class when Akaashi takes the seat next to you. 

You steel yourself before you look over to greet him. He gives you a slightly exasperated look but when tears don't well up in your eyes his relief is obvious. 

The week and a bit after your little revelation had been extremely tough. Bokuto had been left bewildered and confused after your highly emotional confession when you'd refused to tell him anything more, after all, it wasn't your secret to tell. Then every class had started by you, sleep deprived and guilt-ridden, spontaneously bursting into tears upon the mere sight of Akaashi. He'd tried to comfort you at first, his kindness only leaving you more upset. This had culminated in him, rightly, losing his patience with you, basically telling you that if he could keep it together then you could, too. 

It had been what you'd needed to snap out of your self pity. Mostly. You weren't the worst off in this situation, it was time to suck it up and do better. So, now, you were only sort of avoiding them both, rather than overtly.

“Will you come with me somewhere tonight?” Akaashi meets your eye expectantly, giving you a tentative smile.

You offer a shaky smile of your own in return, trying your best to sound cheerful. “Sure.” 

You're saved from having to say anything more when your lecturer enters the hall and you get to lose yourself in schoolwork for a couple of hours.

You hadn't been sure what he'd wanted your company for, but you know you hadn't expected this. 

You take a seat next to Akaashi in the massive gym, surprised by the amount of people in the crowd watching the volleyball players warm up on the court. You'd never been in here before, having left any real thoughts of school sports back in high school. 

You don't know the first thing about volleyball, but even you can see how impressive some of the players appear to be. You see Bokuto, next in line to hit the ball and your heart flutters, you'd heard a lot about his playing but never seen it for yourself. 

The strength with which he hits it makes your stomach flip, reminiscent of that ache you get low in your belly before you have sex with him, he's just so powerful. Akaashi watches your reaction and nods, he looks almost proud. “Wait until he really gets going.”

They win the first set. It passes in a whirlwind of a blur, the speed and action hard to follow. Akaashi is patient in his explanations, taking the time to answer all of your questions and explain the different plays, he also tells you that Bokuto is the Ace, you think the title suits him. You're surprised how engaging it is, excitement quickly overtaking any confusion.

In fact, you get so into it, that the true stress of being invested quickly becomes apparent, the tension peaking dramatically whenever it's Bokuto's turn to serve. 

Late into the second set they call a time out, the scores alarmingly close, the last few plays having not gone Bokuto's way. There's a curve to his shoulders that wasn't there before, Akaashi makes a disapproving sound as he looks down at him. When Bokuto moves away from the team to grab a drink, Akaashi makes you jump by putting his fingers to his mouth and letting out a short, sharp whistle. 

Bokuto's eyes find you both in the crowd almost instantly, his face lighting up at the sight of you both watching him. Akaashi sounds pleased, “That should do it.” There's definitely a spring in his step when he returns to the court. You can't help but smile, reminded that your boyfriend is a shameless show-off. 

When they come to a deuce on Bokuto's turn to serve, the tension becomes unbearable. Your voice stretched thin, “Why does it feel like every second lasts a lifetime?” 

Akaashi huffs a laugh at your expense and then becomes unnaturally still when your anxiety overflows and you grab his hand, clinging to it while your other hand covers your mouth and you try to remember how to breathe, your internal mantra of 'it's just a game' doing exactly nothing to ease your nerves.

He adjusts his hand a little in your vice-like grip as you stare, unblinking, down at the court below. You don't notice when he slips his slender fingers between yours, feeling only the comforting squeeze he gives you in return, the sensation grounding you. 

When Bokuto wins the final match point for his team, you're on your feet before you realise it. You throw your arms around Akaashi as every ounce of tension flows out of you, genuinely elated to see them win. He steadies your weight as you celebrate, his smile genuine. A moment passes between you before he speaks. “Come on.” He pulls you by the hand down to the court side to go see the man of the match. 

When he finally makes his way over to you both he's quick to grab each of you in turn, heedless of his sweat-soaked shirt. “Akaashi, you never come anymore! What are you doing here?” When his gaze swings down to you, he suddenly seems a little unsure, waiting for you to speak first.

You can't help but smile, “You were amazing.” 

A grin splits his face and he lights up like the goddamn sun. You lose the ability to breathe as he wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, squeezing the last of the air out of you. When he puts you down you only have a second before he kisses you, fully on the mouth, in front of everyone. 

Your whole body heats up immediately, you hadn't expected your first public kiss with him to be quite so public. 

“Bokuto!”

An older man's annoyed voice shatters the moment as Bokuto physically recoils from the sound, his coach clearly unimpressed. He waves at him in apology before turning back to you both. “I'll meet you at home?” Akaashi nods and golden eyes turn back to you, expectant. “You'll be there, right?”

Your eyes flick to Akaashi and he nods again, you smile, less anxious than you've been for days. “How could I say no?”

When you get back to their apartment, you bask in the comfortable silence between you and Akaashi as you sit together on the sofa, watching some show you're only half paying attention to, while you wait for Bokuto. It feels so good to be here, familiar and comfortable and so very normal.

You let yourself tip towards Akaashi as you rest your head on his shoulder, letting out a sigh, an exhale that feels like it carries the weight of the world, leaving you feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Thank you.” your voice is warm and thick with affection. You couldn't be feeling this way right now without him. 

He presses his face briefly to your crown before resting his head against yours. His voice calm and steady, like always. “You're welcome.”

You stay that way as you both settle back into the quiet, your eyelids quickly growing heavy as you give up all pretense of watching the screen in front of you.

You wake the next morning in Bokuto's bed, oblivious to how you got there. You stretch and yawn, burying yourself in the familiar scent of his bedding, feeling warm and well-rested.

After a few minutes he appears, already dressed and seemingly getting ready to go out. He smiles down at you when he sees you're not sleeping, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. “Finally awake?” his tone is teasing as he leans in for a light kiss. 

You're surprised to find out it's already nearly noon, you don't remember the last time you slept so late. Luckily you only have one class today and it doesn't start for a couple of hours yet. 

You start to apologise but he stops you, “When I got back you were both sleeping, Akaashi woke up but you were out cold. It was obvious you needed it.” He strokes your hair affectionately and you try not to think about how painfully sweet it was for him to carry you to bed without disturbing you. 

He kisses you again and you can't help but sigh into it. It draws him in, his chest pressing against yours as he leans over you, his muscles tensing reflexively as you assert more control than normal, pushing your tongue into his mouth as the feeling pooling between your thighs intensifies. 

He's practically mounted you before he starts to groan, physically straining to pull himself away. It's clear he needs to leave sooner rather than later, and while sex with Bokuto could be a lot of things, quick was rarely one of them.

He kisses you once more, lingering and full of want before he moves away from you completely, his tone full of remorse. “If I'd known you were into morning sex I would've woken you earlier.” 

You laugh fondly at his shameless pouting. You can taste the lingering menthol from his toothpaste. “Well, now you know for next time.”

He smiles in a way that makes you ache, you wish he could stay.

When he leaves it's with the instruction to stay as long as you like, and when he asks if you'll come back tonight you can't bring yourself to refuse, for more reason than one, your eyes roaming over him as he walks out of the door.

You contemplate just staying here for the day, you can think of worse ways to spend your time, but it doesn't last long, your full bladder quickly overcoming your lethargy. Once up you decide to have a shower, taking full advantage of the novelty of having a free bathroom and a clean shower at your immediate disposal. 

It takes you a while to figure out the shower/bath combo set up that they have but you get there, basking in the hot water as you wash any residual drowsiness away. You pick your way through the surprising amount of bottles that litter the bathtub's edge, choosing to wash yourself with the one that smells nicest, making a note of the brand so you can replace it later. 

When you're rinsing your hair, a flicker of movement in the corner of your eye catches your attention. You turn, just to be confronted with a spider the size of your palm on the wall beside you. 

The noise you make is neither attractive nor graceful. You throw yourself away from it, slipping in the tub and landing heavily, causing the bottles to scatter and fall to the floor. 

Akaashi bursts through the door moments later. When he sees you naked and dripping wet in the tub he immediately looks away. You drag his eye back to you as you shriek incoherently, pointing at the spider still sat, unfazed, on the tiled wall. He's quick to come to your rescue, grabbing it with a bare hand and flinging it out of the window before slamming it closed. 

You sit there shivering in horror as Akaashi takes a levelling breath, trying to shake off the panic you infected him with. You go to move and let out a hiss as your hip throbs painfully.

Akaashi appears beside you, his face a deep crimson and a towel in hand as he pointedly doesn't look your way. “Did you hurt yourself?”

You sigh, you hate spiders. “My pride, mainly.” You take the towel from him with your thanks, wrapping it around yourself before he leans over and helps you climb out of the tub. You push your hair back out of your face and your hand comes away covered in bubbles. You look at him apologetically. “Sorry.”

He takes the time to help you rinse the last of the shampoo from your hair before letting you lean on him as he leads you back to Bokuto's bed, finding you a t-shirt to wear and even going so far as to get you an ice pack from the freezer. You don't think it's seriously hurt, but it's definitely going to bruise. You decide to forego your class after all, Akaashi promising to take notes for you before he leaves. 

By the time Bokuto finally returns your phone battery is long dead and you're so bored you could cry. He steps in through the open door, pausing in surprise to see you still lying on his bed, wearing his clothes. His eyes run the length of you before returning to your face, he smiles, pleased, shedding his bag without a word and heading straight for you.

He sits on the edge of the bed and kisses you before you can explain, his intensity sliding easily back into place like he hadn't been gone for hours. You shiver as his hand slides up your thigh and under your t-shirt, his skin still cool from being outside, only remembering why you're here when his fingers dig into your hip and pain sparks at his touch.

He pulls away at your complaint, looking concerned. He lifts the edge of the shirt and looks down, revealing the ugly purple bruise now covering some of your thigh and most of the swell of your hip. “What happened?” he asks, his voice disbelieving.

“I slipped in the tub.” You say, embarrassed. It wasn't a lie, and the less people who knew about your humiliating freak out the better. 

His eyebrows knit together in sympathy. “Poor baby.” He leans back on one elbow to get a better look, “Is that why you smell like Akaashi?” You think about the body wash you'd used as he hovers over your lap, brushing his lips, feather-light, on your thigh. When you don't complain, he does it again, then again, slowly making his way higher. 

You're interrupted by a knock at the door. “Yeah?” Bokuto speaks from your lap and it's up to you to pull the shirt back into place as the door swings open, Bokuto being more than happy to stay where he is.

Akaashi gives him a passing disapproving glance before turning to you, “How are you feeling?” 

After a quick chat he turns back to Bokuto who's idly fiddling with the hem of your shirt, unconcerned with your attempts to bat his fingers away. “I have something for you.” Bokuto perks up at that, sitting up and looking eager.

He hands him a ticket to the charity event on Christmas Eve, now just a week away. “Someone dropped out, so they let me have it.”

Bokuto's mouth falls open, “I get to come with you guys?” 

Akaashi nods and Bokuto hops up to hug him, genuinely excited to not be left out. You feel something stir in your chest as you watch Akaashi's ears turn pink, clearly fighting the urge to smile as he pushes the larger man off him. 

Bokuto has a suit, it turns out, Akaashi doesn't. You wanted to buy something new anyway so you arrange to go shopping with Akaashi on the weekend, pleased when he seems genuinely happy for the help.

When he leaves you can't ignore the uneasiness lingering in your chest. “Hey, Kou?” He looks over from where he's stood at the wardrobe, still wrestling with the suit bag. “Do you think Akaashi is really ok with me being here like this?” You know you're skirting the issue but you can't think of a better way to ask.

He goes back to what he's doing with a half shrug, “He says he is, I've got no reason to doubt him.” 

If you only knew, you think. That's not what you say though. “You don't think I'm invading his space? It's normally just the two of you, right?” You beg yourself to stop pulling at this thread.

He drops himself down beside you, looking as relaxed as ever. “Usually. But you're not the first girl I've brought home and he didn't complain about them.”

You click your tongue, annoyed. Leaning over to pinch the sensitive skin under his ribs. “You did not 'bring me home', I'm not a stray cat.”

“Ow, ow!” He puts his hands up in surrender. “I didn't mean it like that!” He rubs his side, laughing. “I meant if it didn't bother him when it was a stranger, I don't think it'd bother him when it's someone he actually likes.”

“Maybe.” You concede, Bokuto's known him a lot longer than you have, it should be enough, but it's not. “You don't think he's lying?”

There's something in your tone that washes the last of the playfulness out of Bokuto, he looks at you levelly, clearly picking his words carefully to try and assuage your concerns. “I think if he says he's ok, he deserves for us to believe him. It's not our place to tell him how he feels.”

You roll that thought over for a minute, it makes a lot of sense. “That.. helps actually.” You look at him and narrow your eyes. “You're a lot smarter than you like to let on, huh?”

He blinks at you, “I don't know if I should be offended?”

You scoff, “You jumped off a bridge to impress me, not the smartest move you could've made.”

He grins at that, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline as he leans in to kiss you. “You know what they say, do you wanna play it smart, or do you wanna play it cool?”

You laugh against his lips, his kiss tender and affectionate, you wish you could go further but your hip is throbbing and you know you can't. You pull away from him, looking guilty. “I'm sorry we can't...”

He cuts you off, his face serious. “Why? We're together for more than that now, right?” Something in your chest throbs and you have to look away. You nod, touched. “Good.” His smile is sincere. “Now come back, I wasn't done yet.” You're happy to comply.

Shopping turns out to be easier than you would've guessed, Akaashi, ever the diligent student, having already researched where he needed to go. You, on the other hand, are significantly less organised. At the third shop he points to a mannequin on the shop floor. “What about that one?”

You go over to inspect it. It is beautiful but it's not like anything you've ever worn before, a slinky floor length dress with a bateau neckline and a dramatic open back. It's also a shimmering gold. You wrinkle your nose, “You think I could pull it off?” Your tone is sceptical. 

“No question.” His answer is immediate, his voice certain. You look at him, eyes widening slightly. He meets your eye without wavering and you're reminded of all those times you'd wished he'd liked you back. 

Your mouth goes a little dry and you have to look away. “Well, ok then.” 

When you both finally get back to the apartment it's hours later, you'd bought the dress and then decided it was so nice that you had to get your nails done to cover up the mess you'd made of them when you'd been an anxious mess. Against all of your advice, Akaashi had stayed with you, enduring the incessant chattering of the beautician about Christmas and New Year plans, not even complaining when she'd mistakenly assumed he was your boyfriend and you'd been too embarrassed to correct her as she complimented him with how lucky you were to have an understanding man like him. 

Bokuto hops up to greet you both at the door, “You came back!” It had been hard to convince him let you go home these last few days, with him becoming more and more persistent about you staying. You'd quietly asked Akaashi earlier in the day if he minded, but he'd insisted that he likes having you around, which had made you feel both better and worse about the whole thing. You were getting a little tired of complicated feelings to be honest. 

After you'd all eaten together, for the third night in a row no less, Bokuto returns from the fridge with canned drinks for you all. He hands you one and you stare at it, considering your nails. Without you having to ask, Akaashi wordlessly takes it from you and cracks it open before setting it back in your hand. 

You give him a warm smile, genuinely grateful he's always helping you. “What would I do without you?” You'd meant it jokingly but you can't help but notice when he stares at you for a few heartbeats too long. You raise your eyebrows in question while Bokuto talks, he presses his lips into a thin line, shaking his head a little before responding to Bokuto. You can't help but wonder what was wrong.

When Bokuto starts to fall asleep on the sofa you know it's time to make your escape. He complains, because of course he does, but you finally convince him to let you leave. “It's one night Kou, I need more clothes and there's some things I want for the party tomorrow.” He pouts, muttering something about if you'd just bring your stuff here then this wouldn't be necessary. You ignore him, he's always childish when he's tired. You say goodbye to Akaashi, stopping to kiss a sulking Bokuto on your way out the door.

When you get back to the house the heat is as unbearable as ever. You head up to your room to open your window and change into your pyjamas, firing off a quick message of complaint to Bokuto about the temperature. When he's slow to reply you take a photo of yourself at the window, sending that to him too. 

You..  
At least it's easier to cool down without you here.

His request for a video call comes through almost immediately. When you accept you're greeted by his smiling face, clearly shirtless and lying on his bed. You try not to look too interested. 

“I told you, you should've stayed.” His voice isn't as petulant as it had been you're pleased to notice. “How's your bruise? I forgot to ask earlier.”

You shift the camera, pulling your shorts down a little so he can see it, still ugly but definitely improving. He hums in a way that gives you goosebumps, you know that hum. “Kou..” You give him your best warning tone as you bring the phone back up to face you. 

“What?” His voice is deep and rich. He's stroking his bare chest, staring into the camera, not even attempting to play dumb.

You drop yourself down onto your bed, “You're shameless, you know that?” 

He gives you a lazy smirk. “Indulge me.” There's something in his voice that makes you shiver, You chew at the inside of your lip, briefly, suddenly self-conscious. 

Fuck it.

You hold the phone in one hand, angling it so he can see your face and chest, matching him. You run your finger tips along your bare skin, catching his interest, you watch as his chest inflates as you slip your fingers under your top, gently pinching a nipple. 

He slides his hand down his stomach, trailing along that line of hair that disappears into his boxers. “Let me see.” You obey willingly, exposing your breast to the camera, licking the pad of your thumb before running it over your nipple, blowing a gentle stream of cold air over it so he can watch it harden. 

He makes a satisfied noise as he slips his hand into his boxers, taking himself in hand at the sight of you. “I wish I was there.” his voice is thick with want. You nod in agreement as he starts to stroke himself. “Are you wet?”

You slip your hand between your legs, visibly reacting when you brush across your clit before dipping your fingertips into yourself, then holding them up to the camera so he can see the shine of your excitement. You watch the muscles in his neck tense and he starts to pick up the pace. “Suck them.” You raise an eyebrow, he's not normally so verbally direct with you, but you can't say you dislike it. 

You do as you're told, spurred on when it elicits a growl from him and you see the muscles in his arm and chest flex and twitch. “Touch yourself.” You swallow, surprised by how eager you are to jump to his commands. 

You go to move the camera so he can watch your hand move between your thighs but he stops you, “I want to see your face.” You feel your cheeks flush a little but you do as you're told, letting him watch every sensation play out on your face as you match his pace.

When your eyes flutter closed and a soft moan escapes your throat you hear him grunt before he swears. “Fuck.” He practically hisses the word. “Cum for me, I want you to cum.” 

You lose yourself to your own touch, his eyes on you being the only inspiration you need to chase your release. When he hears your breathing become irregular, he recognises how close you are. “Don't stop.” His voice is ragged and demanding as he pumps himself harder. 

You climax with his name on your lips, burying your face into your pillow to muffle the sound, hearing him grunt and moan as it pushes him over the edge, spilling his seed across his stomach and chest. 

When it passes you look back at the camera, laughing softly as you pant, his image a mirror of yours. His voice rings clear into the silent room. “I love you.” 

You swallow audibly as your brain tries to process what you heard. You feel your cheeks catch fire as you look away, pressing the phone to your chest as you cover your face and laugh. 

“You still there?” his voice is laced with concern. 

You bring the camera back to your face, “Now? Really?” You're aiming for admonishing but your smile gives you away.

He looks down at the mess across his chest and then shrugs. “I kept chickening out in person.”

You shake your head fondly before meeting his eye. “I love you, too.”

The next evening you take over their bathroom the second they've both showered, your stuff scattered over every flat surface as you start to get ready. Normally you'd feel guilty about taking this many liberties but, honestly, you're too excited about tonight to worry about it right now. 

Your hip is still too tender to wear underwear, the elastic grating painfully no matter what you try, and, with the dress being backless, this means that, other than a little bit of body tape to make sure your nipples won't be noticeable, you're going to be completely nude underneath the dress. You smirk, you can't wait to tell Bokuto.

Your make up takes a surprisingly long time before you're happy with it, you're out of practice of doing a full face, having little need of it these days. Your hair, annoyingly enough, takes almost as long after you decide to wear it up in an elaborate knot on the top of your head, leaving your neck bare to accentuate the dramatic plunge at the back of the dress. 

When you emerge you can hear music coming from Bokuto's room, you assume he's still dressing so head to the kitchen for a glass of water while you wait, knowing better than to wander into his bedroom while he's half dressed and all hands.

You meet Akaashi in there, using the window as a makeshift mirror as he fiddles with his tie, struggling to make it sit right. You always forget how tall he is, after all he's usually stood next to Bokuto, who always manages to appear larger than life. You make eye contact with his reflection and smile. “You really did choose a good suit.” He thanks you quietly without turning to face you, so you stand behind him, reaching your arms around his chest so you can straighten it for him. 

Once you're done, you turn him towards you to inspect him, stopping only to lick the pad of your thumb before brushing it over one of his eyebrows, fixing literally the only hair you can see out of place on him. You smile warmly, “Perfect.” He looks so handsome. 

He opens his mouth, looking unsure, and then closes it, before trying again. “You look beau-”

He's interrupted by a wolf whistle from Bokuto as he enters the kitchen, his eyes roaming over you hungrily. “Damn.” 

You smile and do a little spin for his inspection. He moves towards you but you put your hand on his chest and push him away. “Unless you want me hijacking your bathroom for another hour before we can leave, you're gonna have to wait.”

He starts to complain but you ignore him, your eyes following Akaashi as he leaves the room, you assume to get his shoes. When he's safely out of earshot, you lean close to Bokuto and inform him of your lack of underwear, He groans loudly, “You're killing me, here.”

The three of you decide to take a taxi to the event, partly because of your heels, but mostly because you don't have a coat nice enough to match the dress so you're refusing to take one at all. You've put in far too much effort to let a little bit of cold ruin it now. 

The place turns out to be huge, richly decorated with every surface seeming to sparkle and glisten, the main attraction being the massive Christmas tree at the very centre of the floor. It's already pretty busy, people milling about happily as wait staff offer trays of hors d'oeuvres and a full brass band plays a mix of big band music and Christmas songs. You look around, eyes full of wonder, you've never been anywhere like it before. 

Akaashi heads to the bar to grab you some drinks while Bokuto flits around you, wanting to touch you but under strict instruction that if he messes up anything about your outfit that you won't be sleeping with him for the rest of the year. 

When a man you don't know asks you to dance almost immediately it's too much for him, he grabs your hand and pulls you away, looking for a free table for the three of you to enjoy your complimentary glasses of champagne. You savour it, knowing that every drink from here on out will have to be paid for. 

Still, the alcohol ends up flowing freely, it's for a good cause after all. Bokuto finally convinces you to dance with him, dragging you out onto the floor where he proceeds to spin and dip you until your ribs hurt from laughing, oblivious to the people around you. 

When he heads for the bathroom you go back to your table, dropping into the seat beside Akaashi, leaning close to his ear so you'll be heard over the music. “I want a dance with you before the night's over!”

Akaashi gives you a small smile, he has the beginnings of a drunk blush across his nose, then again, you're sure you would too if you weren't so thoroughly painted with foundation. His voice is apologetic, “I'm afraid it's a little too excited for my taste.” 

“Save me a slow one, then.” You smile, knowing he can't wriggle out of that one. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he nods before finishing his glass. “Another?” You head off to the bar to get more drinks without waiting for a reply.

Late into the evening and Bokuto is looking about as drunk as he must feel, his tie undone and his shirt loose a couple of buttons, complaining loudly about being hungry, the “little snacks” on offer apparently not being enough to tide him over. You promise him there's not long left now.

When the band starts playing Silent Night, you turn to Akaashi, puppy dog eyes armed and ready to go. You speak before he can refuse you. “You promised.” He stands and offers you his hand, you take it, grinning, as he leads you to the dance floor. 

He puts one hand on your waist, taking your hand with the other as he leads you. It doesn't surprise you when you find him to be unerringly elegant even when drunk, you hope you won't embarrass him. He smiles at your incessant grinning, clearly suspicious. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, teasing.“I'm just honoured to have gotten your only dance of the night. I'm a lucky girl, why wouldn't I smile?” 

He blushes a little and you can't help but feel pleased. You hope he's enjoyed himself at least a little tonight. “Have you had a good night?” he asks.

You smile, all teeth, sometimes it feels like he always knows what you're thinking. You glance over to where Bokuto is still slumped, watching you, he meets your eye with a lazy smile on his face, giving you both a little wave. You look back to Akaashi, committing the end of the night to memory. “It's been perfect.”

When you get outside you decide to walk home, vaguely concerned about one of you getting sick if you go by car. You take your shoes off, preferring to go barefoot than risk breaking an ankle, as Bokuto drops his suit jacket onto your shoulders and Akaashi frets about if it's a good idea or not, his breath fogging in the night air. You smile, “You're such a mother hen, Akaashi.” You link your arm with his and start pulling him in the direction of home, ignoring his complaints as you try to figure out the best place to get food at this time of night.

When you get back to the apartment you all scatter in different directions, Bokuto to the kitchen to check the fridge, Akaashi heads to the bathroom and you go straight to the bedroom to change into something warmer and to find some socks, begrudging how right Akaashi had been about the cold. 

Bokuto comes in while you're adding your second pair of socks, trying to will some blood back into your toes. Your phone makes a pitiful beep to alert you for the hundredth time that the battery is dying. You dig through your bag, coming up empty. “Shit, I left my charger at home.” Maybe he had a point after all, it couldn't hurt to start leaving more than just a toothbrush here.

Bokuto drops himself heavily onto the bed, covering his face with one arm, “Akaashi has a spare in his room.” He's still slurring a little, his voice thick with tiredness. 

You knock on the open door to be safe but he's not in there, you can see the wire on his bedside table so you don't think twice about wandering in to steal it, even if he needs it back, a little charge can go a long way. As you pick it up, you notice the owl keyring you gave him for his birthday hanging from his bedside lamp. You lift it carefully, holding it in your palm as you inspect the little guy. 

You hear the door creak behind you and turn to be confronted with Akaashi standing there, swaying a little, you smile at him. “I didn't expect you to keep it you know.” 

There's something different about his demeanour as he doesn't respond. Just as you think you might have annoyed him by being in here, he closes the space between you and leans in, your brain failing to register what's happening until it's already happened. 

He kisses you. His delicate lips lingering against yours, your eyes flutter closed, struck by how sweet it feels. You open them again as he pulls away, blushing. You bring your fingers to your lips, reality setting in. Your eyes go large as you stare at him, he stares right back, his voice breathy. “I'm sorry, I couldn't fight it anymore.”

Your mouth works silently, your brain lost in a haze of confusion. “But, you're in love with Kou?”

Movement draws your eyes over his shoulder to where Bokuto stands in the doorway, his features blank. You don't know what Akaashi sees in your face but he whips his head around, sucking in a breath as he realises Bokuto saw. 

It feels like time stops as you all stand there in the silence staring at each other. It's broken by Akaashi moving swiftly away from you, pushing past Bokuto and into the bathroom, the lock clicking loudly as he slams the door closed. 

You stare at Bokuto, unsure of what to say. “Kou, I-”

“I know.” He cuts you off before you can explain. He turns and heads to the bathroom door. “Akaashi?” When he gets no response, he bangs on the door, his voice rising. “Akaashi, open the door.”

“I'm sorry.” The sound of his voice through the door nearly breaks your heart, you've never heard him so emotional. “Bo, I'm so sorry.”

It snaps you out of your stupor, moving over to where Bokuto is bracing himself on the door frame rolling his neck, his figure tense. You put a hand on his shoulder and he flinches, you think he's angry at first until you look at his face, distress written all over it, his voice shaky. “What do I do?”

You move him away from the door, knocking it lightly, your voice coaxing. “Akaashi, please open the door.” 

“I-” you hear him swallow a sob, “I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm doing.” 

You clench your jaw as you press your forehead against the door, forcing the tremor out of your voice, you wish you hadn't drunk so much. “It's ok,” you try to soothe, “we can figure it out together. Please, just open the door.” It feels really important for him not to be alone right now. 

After what feels like a lifetime, you hear a click and the door opens enough for you to make eye contact, his face wet with tears and looking distraught. You smile gently, offering your hand to him, he opens the door and takes it, squeezing so hard it hurts as a fresh round of tears fall from his eyes. 

He looks over at Bokuto, his features crumpling. “Bo..”

Bokuto steps forward, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him into a hug. Akaashi starts to sob uncontrollably against his neck, clinging to the back of his shirt while never easing his grip on your hand. You meet Bokuto's bewildered gaze and have to turn away, swiping at the tears forming in your eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Akaashi ends up falling asleep on the sofa, his face buried in the arm rest, his feet on Bokuto's lap where he'd been patiently rubbing his back as he cried himself out. You're curled up in the armchair facing them, feeling drained and far too exhausted to do anything but be honest when Bokuto finally speaks up.

“Back there,” his voice is rough, “you said that he was..” he can't get the words out, “..with me?” You nod, swallowing down your regret, it hadn't been yours to tell. It's too late for that now, though. “Is that why you were like that after his birthday?”

You sigh, wishing he was genuinely as oblivious as he sometimes seemed. You have to clear your throat before you speak, your voice raw with emotion. “I thought I was going to lose you.” 

His eyebrows draw in together, “To Akaashi?”

You nod again, defeated. “To him, or for him. Or maybe that I'd lose Akaashi instead.” You look down at him sleeping peacefully, “I never expected him to...” You trail off, thinking about his confession. “It's funny,” you scoff, mirthlessly, “I had a crush on him for months, I always thought it'd make me happy to hear but now..” You trail off again, your brain too tired to form full thoughts. 

Bokuto looks pained. “Before we met, he used to talk about you all the time.” You think you should be shocked, but you're too tired to do anything but listen as he rambles. “I asked why he didn't make a move and he acted like it just wasn't like that. Then he introduces you and I can't understand it.”

You think back to the night you met him, his complaints about you being “hot” making more sense with context. 

“He tells me off and says to leave it alone. But then you're fun and you're pretty and I know you're a good person because he's been telling me so for months.” He's not even looking at you now, talking to the dark room, trying to make sense of it as much for himself as for you. “When I told him I liked you, all he said was to not mess you around.” 

He meets your eye, looking as vulnerable as you've ever seen him. He swallows, “If you and I weren't... would you want to be with him?”

Your heart aches, you don't want him to do this. “I am with you.”

He shakes his head, his tone insistent, “But, if you weren't?”

“But I am.” Your voice is firm despite his irritation. You won't take part in these pointless hypotheticals, there's enough hurt to go around already.

He scoffs and you get annoyed, doesn't he understand you have the exact same fears? “And what about you?” you whisper harshly. “If we weren't together then what would you want?”

He looks down at Akaashi asleep beside him, looking thoughtful, he doesn't answer you. It's all so complicated. 

You both slip into a silence neither of you chooses to break, Bokuto soon falling asleep where he is, his forearm rested on Akaashi's legs. You don't know how long it takes before you follow him, still curled up in the armchair. 

You wake up to Akaashi covering you with a blanket, you open your eyes to find him crouched down beside you as he tucks you in. You stare at each other for a long while without speaking, finally you reach out and take his hand, squeezing it firmly. “It's gonna be ok.”

The atmosphere the next morning is so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife. It gets under your skin and grates against your nerves until you can't take it anymore. When Bokuto comes into his room and finds you packing your bag, he looks horrified, his voice filled with accusation. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I'm doing?” You snap, your tone harsher than you'd meant it to be, the stress and tiredness catching up with you. You stop mid-motion and take a breath, regaining some control over your emotions. You meet his eye, apologetic, “You two have things you need to talk about and you can't do that with me here.”

He makes an annoyed sound before snatching your bag away from your reach. He moves around the bed and takes your hand, pulling you out into the living room, pausing only to bang on Akaashi's door as you pass it, his voice determined. “We're sorting this out right now.”

He releases you, pointing at the armchair. “Sit.” When Akaashi appears, hovering in the doorway, he gets the same treatment, this time with the sofa. “Sit.” You both do as you're told, sharing an anxious glance as Bokuto paces in a circle, rubbing his face with his hands then scraping his fingers through his hair before speaking. His voice exasperated. “Is there anything else I don't know?”

You both shake your head, no. He let's out a long sigh before speaking, “Ok.” he sits on the coffee table, directly in front of Akaashi, forcing him to face him head on, his voice level. “What do you want?”

Akaashi immediately shakes his head, “I don't want anything.” 

Bokuto raises his voice and points at you, “Then why did you kiss her, Akaashi?” It's the first time you've ever heard him angry, the betrayal in his voice causing Akaashi to physically flinch away. You hear him whisper a 'sorry' as he closes his eyes, his features drawn. You feel like you're intruding on something intimately private. 

Bokuto sighs, trying to get him to look at him again. “Akaashi?” When he doesn't respond, he softens his tone. “Keiji?” That gets his attention. He continues, “I don't need you to be sorry, I just don't want you to lie anymore.” His eyes flick to you before returning to Akaashi, “Keeping secrets hasn't helped any of us.” 

You get the feeling that betrayed tone wasn't only because of Akaashi, you swallow down your guilt. 

Bokuto leans forward, meeting Akaashi's eye, enunciating his words carefully. “What do you want?”

Akaashi looks at you, then back to him. His voice barely a whisper. “I want things to stay like they are.” You understand how he feels, none of you wants to lose anything. 

Bokuto sighs, his frustration obvious. You think he's going to lose his temper again but something resolves itself in him and he nods to himself. “Fine. Then we have to have rules...” 

Akaashi nods and you brace yourself, both expecting the worst. 

“You don't get to feel bad about this anymore, no sulking.” He gives Akaashi a serious look as he blinks up at him, confused. “And you don't get to just kiss her whenever you feel like it,” he points to you, “only if she wants to. And only when I'm around.” 

“What?” You and Akaashi speak in unison, your tones disbelieving. 

Bokuto looks between you both, confused. “What?”

Akaashi speaks first, his voice incredulous. “You can't be serious?” 

Bokuto frowns, “Why not?” When Akaashi doesn't answer, he nods in your direction. “She's liked you for months.” You open your mouth to object to him speaking for you but he continues regardless, “You've clearly liked her for just as long.” 

Akaashi's cheeks take on colour as he glances your way before returning to Bokuto, frowning. “So your answer is to what? Have me borrow her?” He sounds irritated. You can't say you don't feel the same way, you don't appreciate being talked about like you're not here.

“Of course not.” He also sounds offended at the thought. You're officially lost as you all stare at each other.

You break the stalemate. “What are you saying then, Kou?” 

He stands, blowing out a breath as he paces around the table. “I'm saying the three of us.. should be.. you know.. together.” When neither of you speaks, his shoulders sag. He meets his best friend's eye, his voice defeated. “I love her Akaashi, and I love you too. Isn't it even worth trying?”

You see Akaashi's eyes start to shine from here, he looks down at the floor, his voice shaky. “So it doesn't bother you?” He swallows audibly. “That I.. like men?” He sounds so unsure of himself it hurts your soul. You stand, moving to the seat next to him so you can hold his hand. 

Bokuto stops his pacing and stills, his voice adamant. “Of course not.” There's a second of silence before he speaks again. “I saw you once,” He sounds guilty, “before we left home, we went to that costume party?” Akaashi covers his face and nods, clearly knowing when he's on about. “I saw you with that guy.” He rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks turning pink. “It's not like I never thought about it after that, with you, you know?” Akaashi looks up at him, wide eyed. “It just.. never came up.” He shrugs, embarrassed. 

You don't know what to say, so you say nothing. Akaashi, however, has more questions. “You'd really want this though?” He looks between you and Bokuto, “You're always complaining about men being around her.” 

Bokuto's arms drop to his sides, his mouth falling open. “Akaashi! You promised you wouldn't tell her!” 

You let out a snort of laughter that makes them both look your way, you apologise, you know it's a serious conversation but honestly, the man is ridiculous. You get your features under control, your voice only slightly amused. “In his defense Kou, you did just say no more secrets.” 

Bokuto pouts and you smile at him fondly, you see the shadow of a smile on Akaashi's face too. Your heart swells, it's only a glimmer of hope but maybe things will be ok after all.

“It's just different.” Bokuto says with a shrug. “When Washio was touching her it made me feel kind of itchy and irritated..” He shudders like his skin is crawling just from the memory. “but watching you two together, it just.. doesn't?” You think of the way he was smiling at you both while you were dancing the night before, “It makes me happy to see you both having fun and it just makes me want to be a part of it, too.” 

Akaashi looks at you, “And you?” 

You swallow, feeling put on the spot. You look between him and Bokuto, torn. Then you realise, that answers it for you. No more secrets, you choose honesty. You nod, looking Bokuto in the eye. “I want to try, too.” He smiles at you, obviously relieved. 

Akaashi blows out a breath, shaking his head. Clearly still unsure. “I need to think about it.” He squeezes your hand before standing and heading to his room. 

When he closes the door you sag down into the sofa, exhausted. Bokuto sits beside you, looking concerned. “Are you ok?” You nod and he shifts in his seat. “Was what I said ok?” 

You laugh, it's a little late for that now. You pull him towards you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you settle your head against his chest. “I love you, Kou. Whatever happens.”

After that, the day becomes relatively normal. Bokuto puts on films to watch, you change into your pyjamas and doze on the sofa, at some point Akaashi re-emerges and you all eat together in front of the of the television, quiet but comfortable. To be honest, you couldn't have hoped for better. After the meal you remember you haven't given them their Christmas gifts yet.

You hop up and head into the bedroom, returning with two wrapped gifts, one for each of them. When you hand Bokuto his, his first reaction is to be disappointed that it's a practical gift, until you explain, “You kept complaining that my bed was comfier,” you tap your finger on the Egyptian cotton sheet in his hands. “this is why.” You have to work hard not to laugh when he brings it to his face and rubs it on his cheek, smiling contentedly.

You turn to Akaashi who's already unwrapped his and is looking down at the book in his hands, rubbing a thumb over the cover. He meets your eye and smiles, he'd been reading the digital version of it the day you'd met him, it had been the first thing you'd ever talked about. He looks a little sad, “I'm sorry I don't have anything to give you in return.”

“It's ok.” You shake your head, adamant, “I'd wanted to get you something to say thank you for, you know,” you gesture vaguely, “everything?” School, studying, shopping, even getting Bokuto a ticket to the party, all of it was thanks to him. You owe him a lot. You lower your voice conspiratorially, “And the whole spider thing?” 

He huffs a laugh, looking down at the book's cover fondly. “Thank you.”

“Well,” Bokuto says as he stands up, “my turn.”

He comes back with a six pack of beer and a cigarette tin, handing them off to Akaashi, “For the household.” Then to you he hands a box as big as your torso. You can't even begin to guess what's inside. “For you.”

You undo the poorly wrapped bow and slide off the lid before looking up at him. Your voice disbelieving, “You have to be kidding?” 

He grins mischievously as he takes the box from your hands and up-ends it, tipping the contents into your lap. Every type of sweet you can imagine falls out, hard candy, jelly sweets, bubblegums, sour candies, ribbons and laces, some you don't even recognise. All of them are blue. You can't imagine how long it took him to find them all. You shake your head, laughing. “You're insane.”

He leans down to kiss you, “It's why you love me.” 

You feel a nudge against your arm as Akaashi hands you an already lit joint, your eye catching a little on the sight of him exhaling smoke out of his nose. There really is nothing he can't make look good. He pokes around in the pile of sweets half burying you and pulls out a lollipop, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth as Bokuto complains that you were meant to have first choice, not him. When Akaashi smiles around the lollipop stick and raises his eyebrows with a 'tough shit' expression on his face, you can't take your eyes off him. If someone had told you this morning that by tonight he'd look as relaxed as you'd ever seen him, you would've called them an idiot. 

The night continues in that same mood, Bokuto puts on some action film about street racing, you all smoke, you even have a can of beer even though you can't stand the taste of the stuff, the candy helping chase any lingering bitterness away. 

Towards the end of the film you've let gravity take you, lounging heavily over the arm the sofa, with your feet on Bokuto's lap, Akaashi sat between you both on the floor, still quietly picking his way through your box of candy. 

You notice when Bokuto starts to get restless, the alcohol and weed inevitably making him handsy, tracing ticklish circles on your ankle and laughing as you try and kick him off, before doing it again a minute later.

You let out a surprised yelp when he wraps his hand around your foot and pulls, dragging you down flat onto the sofa so he can press his lips to the inside of your ankle, sliding up your pant leg and trailing kisses along your calf, as you brace your other foot against his chest in a half-hearted attempt to push him away. 

Akaashi glances back at you both and clears his throat, “Well, I think bed's calling me.”

Bokuto grins and digs his teeth into the side of your knee, “Mm, I think I hear it too.”

“Kou..” You give him your best warning tone. You look up at the now standing Akaashi, “You really don't have to, this is your home, you shouldn't be chased out of it.” You're aiming for sincerity but it's kind of hard with Bokuto walking his fingers up your thigh. 

He gives you a kind smile, “I'm pretty sure even if I stayed it wouldn't deter him.” You kind of have to concede that point as you bat Bokuto's hand away from your pyjama pant drawstring.

“Would that be so bad?” 

You both turn to look at Bokuto, his eyes genuinely curious as he massages one of your feet in his hands. He looks between the two of you, neither of you sure what to say. 

He shrugs at nothing in particular, “I'm just saying, it sounds hot to me.” He stares at you as he says it, and anticipation pools in your stomach, you try to push it away, annoyed with yourself at how quickly he can sway your excitement. 

Akaashi's mouth is working but no sound comes out, he turns to you as if you'll save him from the situation. You know you probably could, and maybe you should, but you can't help but feel like you don't really want to. So you shrug, giving him a half smile, “It's your call Akaashi, no pressure either way.”

He stares at you for a long moment, you hold his gaze. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows, his eyes settling on the space between you both. “Ok.”

Bokuto grins down at you, “You heard the man,” he turns his body so he can lean his back against the armrest, taking hold of your arm and pulling you upright, his strength making it as easy as moving a ragdoll as he turns you away from him and drags you back into his lap. “make room for him.”

Akaashi hesitates for just a second before taking the seat, his body angled towards you as colour floods his cheeks. Your mouth goes dry, the reality of the situation hitting you all at once. 

“You wanted to kiss her, right?” You look back at Bokuto, surprised by how eager he sounds. He smiles down at you, pressing his lips once against yours. It settles your nerves, reminding you that you trust him, whatever happens. 

You look back at Akaashi, his eyes flitting between you both. He looks so nervous. “Are you sure?” Your voice is barely a whisper, you want him to be sure. 

He watches your lips as you speak, giving you the slightest of nods before he leans in, his lips pressing against yours. You feel Bokuto stop breathing, his chest stilling against your back as Akaashi's tongue tentatively meets your own. He pulls away for a second, searching your face, you give him a small smile, he looks over your shoulder at Bokuto, who sighs against your neck, then he's on your lips again, firmer, more sure. 

You feel Bokuto shift behind you, pulling his shirt over his head before leaning you back against his bare chest, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You look so good together.” A mix of warmth and want is laced into his voice. 

Akaashi pulls away from you to look at Bokuto, anxious. Bokuto pays him no mind, pulling at the bottom of your top, loosening it so he can take it off you. You see Akaashi's eyes widen in response. You become unsure, “Kou..” 

“I want to feel you against me.” He murmurs into your ear, his breath on your neck leaving you tingling. You turn your face to his, you want to make sure. He meets your eye and all doubt evaporates, he wants this. You lift your arms a little, holding his gaze as he pulls your shirt up and off of you, leaving you in your bra between the two men. 

He presses his lips to yours before speaking, “You're the odd one out, Akaashi.” 

You turn to see Akaashi staring at you both, at first you think he's having second thoughts, but then you notice his eyes seem more unfocused than usual, he's also uncharacteristically breathing through his mouth.

He doesn't need to be prompted twice, pulling his top off in one efficient motion. Your eyes roam over his chest, he's smooth and lean and so very pretty. You don't get to dwell on it for too long before he's kissing you again, more sure, more forceful, he shifts onto his knees so he can push into your space, pressing you bodily against Bokuto, who proceeds to watch, enraptured, his breaths heavy against your ear, his growing erection pressing against the small of your back. 

Your senses feel overwhelmed. You pull away, coming up for air as lust pulses through you. Bokuto presses a kiss against your neck, his voice low and rough, “Akaashi.” He glances up at him and you see Akaashi swallow, before leaning towards him, ever so slowly. 

When their lips meet it takes your breath away, you see Akaashi's chest shudder and feel Bokuto's grip tense around you, nerves getting the better of him. You run your hand soothingly along his arm, pleased when he relaxes into it. Tentative and hesitant quickly becoming something more, something excited and full of want. 

When they pull apart you're shocked by how quickly Akaashi returns to you, his breathing ragged, his kiss needy as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth. Bokuto shifts, moving one hand to your back as you feel his cock twitch against you. 

You gasp as he undoes your bra, Akaashi pulls away, looking concerned about what could be wrong. Bokuto answers his unspoken question for you, “Did you know she has great tits, Akaashi?” 

You open your mouth to admonish him, feeling self-conscious, but Akaashi speaks first. “I know.” His eyes are on you and they are hungry. Your face flushes when you realise he must have seen you when he'd saved you from the spider. Knowing he'd wanted you even then stirs something inside you, any lingering doubts or shyness melting away. You let Bokuto drop your bra to the floor as Akaashi's eyes take you in eagerly. Once more, you'll check once more, then there'll be no turning back. “Are you sure?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk that you feel deep in the pit of your stomach. His lips meet yours again as he takes a breast in hand, his touch delicate compared to Bokuto's but just as exciting to you. His thumb brushes gently over your hardening nipple causing a soft, surprised moan to escape your throat. 

Bokuto practically growls in response, slipping his hand between your legs and gripping your clothed sex firmly before pulling you tighter against his body. Your nervous system comes alive as your body squirms under his touch, you don't think you've ever been so sensitive. He gives you no respite as he grinds his palm against you. You have to pull away from Akaashi, your voice little more than a whine, “Kou, it's too much.” 

Akaashi's eyes run down your body to where his hand is, taking in every detail as Bokuto hushes you sweetly, telling you you'll be ok as he kisses along your shoulder. 

You're panting heavily as they lock eyes and share a moment. “Do you want her, Akaashi?” 

He meets your eye and nods hesitantly, before looking back at Bokuto. “But..” 

Bokuto nods, understanding. If it's too soon then it's too soon. You hear the smile in his voice, “Do you want to see me fuck her?”

“Kou..” You want to tell him not to push him, but he grinds the heel of his palm against your throbbing clit and you can get no more out as a moan escapes you and you dig your nails into his arm. 

“Yes.” Akaashi's voice is breathy but clear. You meet his eyes, heavy lidded and full of lust. 

Bokuto hums happily, “Good.”

He releases his hold on you, pushing you forward into Akaashi's arms as he stands to strip off the last of his clothes. You look up at Akaashi, swallowing as he meets your eye, momentarily self-conscious about what he might think about you now. He smiles down at you. “You're beautiful.” 

Your heart clenches in your chest. “So are you.” You mean it. He tips your chin up to him and kisses you again, his fingers tracing gently down the ladder of your spine, his bare chest against yours. 

You feel Bokuto settle back down behind you, reaching around your waist as he undoes the drawstring of your pyjama bottoms. You pull away from Akaashi to look back at him, taking his hand as he helps you stand and slips them down your legs, leaving you bare before them both. 

Akaashi leans forward, reaching out a hand and running it softly over what remains of the bruise on your hip. “Does it hurt?” His eyes full of concern as he looks up at you, you shake your head fondly, “Not anymore.”

Bokuto pulls you down onto his lap, leaning you back against his chest as you place a knee either side of his hips, his erection visible between your thighs. Akaashi stares shamelessly at the both of you exposed before him. 

“You've got some catching up to do, Akaashi.” Bokuto runs his hand down your body as Akaashi stands, his fingers finding you wet and ready for him. He hums, pleased, pressing his lips against your ear, his tone teasing. “You're so wet already, do I need to be worried you like Akaashi more than me?”

Akaashi strips bare in front of you, already fully erect, his cheeks and chest flushing under both of your gazes. Bokuto murmurs into your ear, “Mm do you see that? Look how much he wants us.” He slips his finger into you and you gasp, your hand moving to cover his as he pushes into you, your body arching against his chest. You see Akaashi's cock twitch as he licks his lips, watching. “You're going to help me make her feel good, right Akaashi?”

He meets Bokuto's eye for a second before nodding, returning to his place in front of you. You follow his eyes down to where Bokuto's cock sits between your thighs, some distant part of your brain noticing he's not wearing a condom. “Kou, we need-”

He interrupts you, his voice thick with want. “I won't finish, I promise.” 

Akaashi leans forward over you, pinning you between them. He kisses Bokuto once, firmly, as you run your hand down his smooth chest, enamoured with the softness of his skin. Then it's your turn, he's gentler with you, his lips lingering and sweet. 

A gasp escapes you as the heel of his palm rubs across your clit, hips lifting to meet his touch. You hear Bokuto grunt behind you, only realising belatedly that Akaashi's fingers were capturing the end of his erection, pulling him towards you as he guided him against your entrance, Akaashi's tongue pushing fully into your mouth as Bokuto shifts his hips and thrusts up into you.

All of your senses scream at you at once. You inhale sharply at the sudden fullness, your arms automatically reaching out for Akaashi as you steady yourself, your hands clinging to his shoulders as Bokuto starts to fuck you, slow, solid thrusts, one hand on your hip, his other moving under your arm before wrapping back up and onto your shoulder, keeping you where he wants you while still being mindful of your bruised hip. 

You moan deeply, feeling Akaashi grunt in response, his kiss becoming more insistent, his hand going to your breast, capturing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it in rhythm with Bokuto's thrusts. 

You have to come up for air, you don't feel like you're getting enough oxygen. 

Bokuto presses a kiss against your neck, “You're doing so good.” You tip your head back against his shoulder, just trying to breathe, your thighs clenching as Akaashi takes your nipple between his teeth, sucking firmly. 

You hear Bokuto hiss behind you, his thrusts stuttering to a stop for a second. You turn so you can see his face, his eyes screwed shut, his jaw visibly clenching. “Are you ok?” You've never seen him struggle to control himself like this before. He opens his eyes and grins, thrusting into you firmly in answer. You wonder how long he'll be able to last like this. 

As if reading your minds, Akaashi releases your breast, kissing a line down your stomach. Your breath hitches as you look down at him, watching as he reaches where your bodies meet. He glances up at you, a shadow of a smile on his lips before he presses them against your clit. 

You make a noise you've never made before, the sensation immediately overwhelming. Bokuto grunts behind you, keeping his pace steady as Akaashi's tongue trails from your clit, all the way down to the base of Bokuto's cock and back up again, lapping at your excitement as pleasure collects low in your stomach. You reach for him, your fingers tangling in his dark hair as he works, watching his hand reach for his own length, stroking himself in time with Bokuto's thrusts. 

It quickly becomes too much, pushing you past the point of no return. “There,” your voice is high and strained, “there, there.” Your breath hiccups as the intensity of your orgasm takes you by surprise. 

Bokuto growls behind you, pulling out of you roughly as you start, fearful of breaking his promise. The loss of him is jarring as your muscles try to clamp down on him, until Akaashi's slender fingers take his place, his mouth still against you, heedless of Bokuto's twitching cock now abandoned between your thighs, he fucks you for him, guiding you through your climax, Bokuto holding you steady as pleasure rolls through you.

When he pulls away from you his lips are left glistening with your excitement. Bokuto's voice is rough next to your ear. “Let me taste.” Akaashi is quick to comply, pressing against you as he kisses him over your shoulder, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

When they're slow to part, you run your hands down Akaashi's stomach before gently running your fingertips along his erection, finding the tip dripping with pre-cum, he's so hard you're worried it might be painful. He makes a strained sound as his hips buck forward involuntarily, Bokuto moaning in response as Akaashi inadvertently rubs against his sensitive head. 

Akaashi pulls away and meets your eye, face flushed and full of need. You reach down between you, taking him firmly in hand, guiding him against Bokuto, still slick with your excitement. Akaashi's body tenses and he closes his eyes, you lean up to kiss under his jaw as you take them both loosely in your hand.

Bokuto is quick to catch on, strong enough to move both of you enough so he can shift position, laying lower on the sofa, allowing their lengths to press flush against each other. “Akaashi.” you prompt softly against his ear. It's all it takes, he thrusts, his hesitance dissolving quickly as he slides pleasingly against Bokuto's slick member. Bokuto grunts and it spurs him on, rutting carelessly against him as you wrap your fingers around them both, Akaashi's forehead resting against your bare chest. 

It doesn't take long before Akaashi moans, his voice stretched thin, “Bo..”, he gets a grunt in response as they both pick up speed. Akaashi goes first, his body tensing on top of you as his breath stutters and catches, you watch, entranced as pleasure overcomes him. Bokuto follows almost immediately, grunting as he cums, hard, repeating the word fuck under his breath.

You're all still for a moment, panting into the silence as the lust filled haze lifts, leaving what just happened a stark reality. 

Akaashi pulls away first, his eyes taking in the mess they've made across your stomach and thighs, apologising softly before heading to the bathroom to get you a towel. You take it from him gratefully as he disappears back into the bathroom, you assume, to clean up. 

It takes you a minute to be able to stand, your knees suddenly stiff and your legs shaky and tired beneath you. You drop back down onto the sofa, something in the back of your mind realising that it's probably going to need a good clean now. That can be tomorrow's problem, you decide. 

Bokuto takes the towel from you and helps you clean yourself off, before doing the same for himself, even giving the sofa a quick once over just for good measure.

You look at him and smile, he looks exhausted, although, in his defense, the last two days have felt impossibly long. “Happy?” 

He gives you a content nod, leaning in to kiss you. His voice already thick with sleepiness. “You were so good, you both were.” At the word 'both' it occurs to you that Akaashi hasn't come back yet. You glance at the closed bathroom door, concern scratching at you. 

You kiss Bokuto again, “Go to bed Kou, I'll be in in a minute.” He nods, looking tired enough to fall asleep on his feet, only pausing to double back and grab his Christmas present before heading to bed, leaving you smiling affectionately at his back. 

Once he's gone you grab Bokuto's discarded t-shirt, slipping it on before gathering up Akaashi's clothes and heading to the bathroom. You knock softly, “Just a minute.” His voice sounds strained.

“It's just me.” you say gently. There's a moment of silence before you hearing the lock click, you open the door, sliding around it and closing it behind you.

He's sat on the edge of the tub, a towel around his waist, looking stressed. You offer him his clothes, he takes his boxers gratefully, slipping them on before returning to where he'd been sat. You keep your tone casual, not wanting to add to any stress he's feeling. “You ok?”

He meets your eye, clearly anxious. He nods but you're not convinced, when he speaks his voice is dripping with uncertainty. “What.. what do we do now?” 

You almost make a joke about sleep, but he's looking too vulnerable right now so you swallow it down. You take a seat next to him on the edge of the bath, considering. “Well, did you enjoy it?”

He glances at you before quickly looking away, clearly embarrassed as he gives a long exhale before nodding. You smile gently, “Then I guess we carry on like this, see how things go.” 

He blinks at you as you give a lazy shrug, not at all fazed by the thought. His eyebrows pull together as he stares at you, “Simple as that?”

You think back to your first night with Bokuto and the handshake that had started you down this path. You smile fondly, meeting his eye. “Does it have to be more complicated?”

You watch any argument he might have had dissipate, leaving only thoughtful consideration on his face. You stand and hold out your hand for him, you expect him to hesitate but he doesn't, sliding his fingers between yours easily and letting you pull him towards Bokuto's bedroom. 

You find Bokuto already asleep under his new bedding, you smile down at him, nothing but love in your heart. You pull back the corner of the sheet, slipping underneath it and settling back against his bare chest, holding it open in invitation for Akaashi. He follows, ever so gently, carefully taking his place beside you, facing away from you so you all fit comfortably on the mattress together. 

You pull the sheet back over you both, relaxing immediately as Bokuto's arm wraps around you, his hand coming to rest on Akaashi's waist. You feel Akaashi freeze briefly at the unexpected touch, bringing a smile to your face as the tension quickly drains out of him. You rest your arm on top of Bokuto's, slipping your fingers between his where they lay against Akaashi's skin. 

You press a kiss between his shoulder blades as Bokuto starts to softly snore. “Merry Christmas, Akaashi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First person threesomes are logistically and communicatively tricky, who knew! Thank you to anyone who made it to the end of this one, it's soooo long! And thank you to anyone who's left a comment lately, you're the real MVP's ❤ As always I'm open to any suggestions or requests in the comments ❤


	12. Two Wishes - OIkawa Tooru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snapshot of a single evening with Oikawa Tooru before he leaves for *manga spoiler* reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bittersweet one-shot palate cleanser while I decide who the next mini-series could be about. Any suggestions welcome!

You exhale a long, shaky breath, willing your nerves to settle as you wait by the stage. 

You've always hated these kind of things, the pomp and ceremony, the oppressive feel of being surrounded by opulence as everyone indulges in decadence and finery. Even if it's only for one night, it's always felt uncomfortably foreign to you. 

You fiddle with the straps of your dress absently as you roll each of your ankles in turn, trying to alleviate some of the discomfort a night in heels has left you with, scrolling through the notes app on your phone, trying to commit every last word to memory before you're called up to speak. 

Normally even the vaguest mention of public speaking would have had you running for the hills, but not tonight, tonight is the exception. All things considered, it really had been the least you could do. You inhale deeply, you'll be fine.

As you skip to the top of the page for the hundredth time, telling yourself that you'll read it through just once more, your silent panic is interrupted by a familiar arrogant drawl alarmingly close to your ear. “I spotted you from across the room and just had to tell you how ravishing you look this evening.” 

You do your best not to startle, ignoring the way your temperature immediately shoots through the roof. You resist the urge to fan yourself, praying to all that is holy that you don't start sweating before you've even set foot on stage. 

You turn to face a very dapper looking Oikawa Tooru as he smirks down at you. You steel yourself, bracing for whatever he has to say.

“I'd heard a rumour that you were going to be the big, final speaker of the evening.” he continues, “I bet the man of the hour will be more than pleased to hear you sing his praises tonight.”

You narrow your eyes, wondering what game he's playing at. “Is that so?”

He gives you his best know-it-all smile, “I'd guarantee it.” 

Once it's over and done with, and you've exchanged all the necessary pleasantries with the people who'd proceeded to approach you, you decide to head out before the after party starts, only half feigning exhaustion. It's been a long night and tomorrow is undoubtedly going to prove to be an even longer day, you could do with some quiet time to mentally prepare yourself. 

You head to the bar to ask someone to call you a taxi, taking a minute to scribble down a hastily written note onto a napkin to leave with the staff, just in case. You decide to head outside to wait, more than a little eager for some fresh air. 

You've barely been outside for a minute, lingering at the top of the steps as you stare down the driveway, before he appears beside you again. You clamp down on your urge to sigh, it isn't really his fault that you'd been hoping to avoid him.

“Leaving already?” his tone is suspiciously light. 

You nod, not looking at him, pulling your coat a little tighter around yourself, suddenly unsure what to do with your hands. 

You both stand in the quiet, waiting. You break first. “What are you doing, Tooru?”

He snorts an indignant breath out of his nose, “I could ask the same of you.” he replies, haughtily. 

You do sigh then, he knows full well what you're doing. “I'm going home, there's a lot that needs to be done-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” He waves a hand dismissively, “Would've been nice not to hear it from the bartender though.” You don't miss the sullen tinge that colours his tone. You say nothing. He's right, after all. 

“Do you have any money on you?” 

His whiplash change in topic is jarring, leaving you puzzled. “Uhh, some?”

“Coins?” he eyes your handbag curiously.

You dig out your purse, looking into it briefly before upending it into the cup of his waiting palm. He pokes a long finger into the little pile of coins, separating two shiny 5 yen pieces before tipping the rest back into your purse. 

He starts down the steps. When you don't immediately follow he turns back, looking up at you expectantly. “Shall we?” He nods his head towards the grand-looking fountain at the centre of the courtyard.

You glance towards the driveway, your taxi is nowhere in sight. You take a steadying breath, knowing you have no reason to refuse him. You feel some of the tension drop out of your shoulders, resignation sagging them. “Ok.”

When you get to the edge of the basin you're struck by how pretty it actually is, white stone and surprisingly simple, it's elegant in a way you can appreciate as you watch the water ripple, illuminated in the darkness by lights just under the surface. 

He hands you back one of the coins, taking his and balancing it on his thumb and forefinger. He meets your eye, then, “Come on,” his encouragement delivered with a patronising lilt, “you know how to make a wish.”

Your first instinct is to argue, maybe even refuse, he knows how to get under your skin so easily. But, you can't bring yourself to, not tonight. You roll your eyes but you do it, mirroring his actions before shutting your eyes. You make your wish, taking longer than you were planning to as all of your being pushes itself into it. You swallow, flicking the coin into the air, keeping your eyes closed long after you hear it splash into the water in front of you.

When you finally open them again, you're immediately met with Oikawa's gaze. It always feels like he can see straight through you. You meet his eye steadily, knowing that, whatever he sees, there's not really any reason to hide it at this point.

You're both quiet for a minute, just looking at each other. When he opens his mouth to speak you cut him off, already knowing what he's going to say. “We agreed.” You're proud of how sure you sound. 

His features go still, but he never could hide that little line that appears between his eyebrows whenever he's displeased. His voice sounds flat to your ear, “And if I've changed my mi-”

He's interrupted by the sound of a car horn. You turn to see your taxi, you wave at it in acknowledgement, getting an affable wave in return from the driver before you turn back to Oikawa. “That's my ride.” It sounds lame even to you, he knows that already, but you don't know what else to say.

You watch the muscle in his jaw clench and know he's grinding his teeth. His silence pulls at you. You take a step, backing away from him. “I should...” you trail off as you take another step. You try to say goodbye but the word just won't come, so instead, you drag yourself away and head straight for the waiting car, hurriedly giving your address before sliding into the back seat. 

You haven't even had time to exhale before the other door opens and Oikawa slips in beside you, slamming the door behind him resolutely. 

“What are you-” Your question catches in your throat when he looks at you, his eyes quietly pleading. You know what he's doing. You chew at the inside of your lip before changing your question. “Is it ok for you to just leave?”

He shrugs, dismissive. “I've said all I have to say.” He turns his head, looking out of the window blankly, his tone hollow. “I want to go home.” 

His voice pulls at your heartstrings and you can't bring yourself to refuse him. You nod at the driver to go.

When you get back to your apartment you hear him click his tongue disapprovingly before tapping on the nameplate beside the door. “Gone already?”

You hadn't thought he'd notice. “They are collecting the keys tomorrow.” you respond, matter-of-factly. 

“Hmm.” He offers nothing else as he takes his key from his pocket, sliding it into the lock and letting you both inside. You're a little surprised, you hadn't expected him to still have it on him.

You take off your coat and shoes at the door as you watch him move further into the apartment, eyeing the stacks of boxes that litter most of the free space in the living area. 

You take a minute to gather yourself, unable to think of a single thing you can say to him. You want to offer him something but the fridge is all but empty. You shake your head, resigned, before following him.

You find him in the bedroom, looking out of the window down at the garden area below. Your stomach flips at the sight of him there, it's so familiar. You swallow it down, you can't deal with this right now. “I need a shower.” You leave without waiting for a response.

You stand under the hot water for a long time, hoping in vain that it might wash this whole thing down the drain.

You heave a sigh and pick up your shampoo bottle, startling when the shower door slides open and a naked Oikawa steps into the space behind you. You wonder just how lost in your thoughts you must have been to not have heard him come in.

You freeze to the spot as he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face against your neck, your heart thumping painfully inside your chest. You both stand there under the hot water for a minute before he takes the bottle from your hands, his voice quiet and gentle. “Let me.”

He takes his time, pouring it into his hand before massaging it into your scalp, rubbing the lather into your hair gently, careful not to let it tangle between his fingers. 

When he's done he turns you to face him, your back towards the shower head as he reaches around you to rinse out the bubbles. He's doing that thing where the tip of his tongue shows between his lips when he's concentrating as he runs his fingers through your hair. It makes you want to cry. “No conditioner today, right?” 

You smile slightly, genuinely touched. He knows you so well. You nod, the shake in your voice betraying you. “Right.”

He meets your eye and you can't help yourself. 

You lift your hand to his cheek, the first time you've touched him since he walked out of the apartment a fortnight ago. He covers your hand with his own, large and calloused and beautifully familiar, as he leans into your touch, letting out the softest of sighs. 

He turns his head to kiss your palm, then your wrist, pulling you towards him as he slowly trails his way up to your shoulder. You swallow as he places his fingers under your chin, turning your face up towards him. “I've missed you so much.” 

His quiet words drowned out by the falling water are little more than breath on your lips but you feel the weight of them as the wall you've worked so hard to keep up crumbles away. 

You lean in first.

Your lips have barely brushed his before his tongue pushes into your mouth, his hands moving to either side of your face, pulling you to him. You go, willingly, wrapping your arms around his neck and stretching up onto your toes to meet him. 

He turns your bodies, moving you so he can back you up against the wall. You inhale sharply, surprised at the temperature change as the cold wall presses against your bare skin, hearing him moan softly as your body pushes against him to escape it. Without breaking the kiss he wraps his arm around you before pushing you back again, using himself as a buffer to protect most of you from the cold bite of the tiles.

You let him, savouring his touch. You've missed him. You run your hands through his wet hair, pushing it back out of his face as he steals your breath with his affection. You touch his shoulders, his arms, you run your hands down his back as the water cascades off you both. 

When he finally pulls away from you, you're both breathless. He stares at you, a thousand words dancing on the tip of his tongue, none of them would get across his feelings better than the way he looks at you now. You know, anything he could possibly say, you already know.

He reaches for the shower, turning the water off. He kisses you again, nothing like the first. Just his lips against yours, lingering and blissful as you do nothing more than share the air between you. 

When he goes to pull away from you your foot slips from beneath you, you hadn't realised how much he'd been steadying you. He catches you easily as laughter bursts from you, your heart pounding as the momentary panic floods you with adrenaline. You rest your forehead on his chest as your laughter slowly peters out, your pulse coming back to normal as he looks down at you fondly. 

He presses his lips to the crown of your head as his hand trails down your back. “Come on.” He moves out of the shower, grabbing a towel for each of you. You wrap yours around you as he uses his to dry his hair. Your eyes run the length of him, you've always loved his body. 

He swipes it briefly over his arms and chest before dumping the towel onto your head so you can dry your hair with it. He walks away towards the bedroom as your eye follows him, taking the opportunity to check out his backside as he goes. He clenches and flexes his muscles as he goes, knowing you're looking without needing to check. You roll your eyes. You've missed him so much.

You pull your hair over one shoulder, taking the time to squeeze the excess water out of it. In the quiet, dread starts to creep in on you again. This is a bad idea, you know it is.

He reappears before the doubt can settle too deep. He approaches you impatiently, taking the towel from your hand and dropping it onto the floor, before taking your hand, leading you to the bedroom, pulling you towards the bed. 

“I haven't dried my hair yet.” You know how much he hates it when the sheets get damp. He seems annoyed until he looks at you, studying your face for a moment before his features soften, his voice wavering a little. “We don't have all night.” A weight settles into your chest. 

He lifts your hand to his chest and holds it to him. You can feel his heartbeat. He leans in to kiss you. You love him. It comes back to you on repeat. You love him. You miss him. You want him. Again and again. You swallow down the lump in your throat, you can't cry, not now.

You want to give him something. You move from his lips to his neck, pausing at the hollow of his throat, you've kissed him here a thousand times. You savour this one. You kiss his chest, your hand still pinned to his heart. As you move lower his breathing quickens. He loosens his hold on your hand, allowing you to kneel in front of him, but he doesn't release you, keeping your hand in his, flush against his torso. You let him, you don't need it.

You wrap your fingers around his already hardening length and take him fully into your mouth, he hates it when you tease after all. You hear him inhale sharply as his grip tightens on your hand, his voice pulled tight. “Look at me.”

You do as he wants, meeting his eye as you suck, hard, pleased with how quickly his body reacts to you. You watch his lips part as he never takes his eyes from you. You want him. You pull away, shifting your hand from the base of him as you use your saliva to fully coat his length before taking him into your mouth again. 

When he tightens his hold on you again you return the gesture, digging your nails into his muscled stomach as you work. He runs a hand down your arm and back again, his breathing rough. 

You feel a tug on your hand and release him. He pulls you back to standing and kisses you sweetly, mindful of your now tender lips. “You know what I've always loved about this apartment?” His voice is low and intimate, his words meant only for your ears, even when there's no one else around who could hear them. 

He turns you away from him, facing the bed. He gestures to the wall of mirrored wardrobes that lay beyond it, his lips pressed against your ear, his voice no more than a whisper. “The view.” He pulls your towel from around you, letting it drop to the floor without another thought.

You swallow hard as you work to keep your features still. Once you'd have shied away from his gaze, tried to cover yourself or move away from him, but that was a long time ago, and now all you're left with is a familiar ache and the anticipation of his attention. You love him.

His eyes run down your body, sighing softly as he presses his cheek to your temple. He meets your eye in the mirror, a smile playing on his lips. “Have I ever told you how much I love your body?” You can't take your eyes off him. 

You nod. “You have.” He runs his fingertips down your arms, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You love him. “Tell me again.”

He smiles, pleased, sweeping your hair out of his way, so he can brush his lips against your neck, his voice low in your ear. “Happily.” He guides you forwards, “Lie down.” 

You move automatically to your side of the bed, closest to the mirrors. He lies down beside you, his hand drifting to your hip as he encourages you to turn onto your side. He presses in close behind you, his body flush against the entire length of you. You've always fit so well together. 

He props his head up lazily on one hand, meeting your eye in the reflection, looking relaxed. “Where to start..” he ponders, teasing. Humming thoughtfully he runs his fingers down the length of your arm, “I love your skin.” he smiles as a line of goosebumps appears in his wake, “I love how it reacts to me.” 

He moves his face towards you, “I love how sensitive you are, here.” he brushes his lips against your neck, “And here.” you shiver as he runs the backs of his fingers against the underside of your breast. 

His hand runs down your torso, “I love how soft it is right.. here.” He scrapes his fingertips along the patch of skin between your hip and the top of your thigh, your body shuddering in response. 

“And here,” his fingers follow the lines of your body up, between your hip and your ribcage. “I love the crease that appears just here when I've got my arm around you,” You watch in the mirror as he looks down at your side fondly, “the way my thumb rests against it just so while we watch TV.”

You drink in his words, committing them all to memory. He loves you. 

You feel him press his erection flush against the small of your back as he sighs, softly. “I love your hands, how much smaller than mine they are.” He covers your hand with is own, as if to emphasise the point, before guiding it behind your back towards him, his tone dropping lower as you take him in hand. “How big they make me feel.” 

You stroke him slowly, the way you know he likes it. “I love your clever fingers,” You hear him swallow against your ear as he licks his lips, his breathing heavier than before. You brush your thumb over the head of his cock and he grunts, smiling. “and how they always know what I want.” He thrusts into your grip, his eyes clouding slightly.

He runs his hand across the swell of your hip and down the outside of your thigh. “I love how ticklish you are just.. here.” He touches, feather-light, the skin at the back of your knee and you jump, laughing, as he buries his face into your neck. You can feel him smiling against your skin. You love him.

He takes the opportunity to slip his hand under your knee, lifting it as he opens your legs, your laughter tapering off as you watch him stare at you intently, now completely exposed to him. 

“And here.” His voice is breathy against your ear. You both watch in the mirror as his hand moves between your legs, running a finger down your seam before pushing against you, exhaling a shaky breath as your lips open to him and he finds you wet, before slowly trailing his finger back towards your clit. 

“And here?” Your body shivers and your grip on him tightens as he circles your clit, slowly, before running a finger either side of it, squeezing the the sensitive bundle of nerves between them as finds his rhythm. “I love the way you sound when I'm here.” You feel your toes curl as a moan escapes your throat. 

He hooks his knee underneath yours, pulling your legs open wider as he shifts lower on the bed, moving himself away from your touch as impatience and want creeps into his voice. “And here.” he moves away from your clit, his fingertips dipping into your opening as you inhale sharply. “I love you here, where I know you were made for me.” 

Without any further preamble, he slips his cock between your legs, his fingers guiding him into you as your mind blanks and you lose every thought but him.

He grunts as he buries himself in you, his attention laser focused on the point where your bodies meet. He's always loved to watch. 

He grips your thigh, holding your leg up as he fucks you, keeping his line of sight clear. His other arm shifts to under your neck, wrapping around you so he can fondle your breasts, squeezing you firmly as your hand reaches up behind you, your fingers tangling in the hair at the back of his neck, keeping him close as he starts to pant. 

You watch him in the mirror, transfixed. You love him.

You lose yourself to it, overwhelmed by him. You'd thought you'd never feel him again, that you'd never get to have him again, you'd thought.. you'd thought...

“Look at me.” 

You hadn't realised you'd closed your eyes until he speaks, you open them to look into the mirror, only to see the reflection of him looking down at you directly. “Look at me.” he insists again.

You turn your face up towards him, struck by the love you see written all over his face. He kisses your cheek and you're surprised when his lips come away wet. You're crying, you realise belatedly. 

You can't keep the shake from your voice, “I'm sorr-”

His lips are on yours before you can finish, speaking between kisses, “Don't be.” His tongue pushes into your mouth as he pulls out of you, the loss of him jarring. He pulls you onto your back as he climbs on top of you. “Never be sorry.”

“Tooru, your knee.” Your voice is thick with concern, this isn't a good position for him.

He presses his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes, a sad, sweet smile on his lips, his voice tender. “Let me.” You love him.

He pushes into you smoothly, your bodies in tune in a way that only comes with time. 

You can't help but think of your first time, how nervous and self conscious you'd felt, how comforting and gentle he'd been with you. So far removed from his usual self that it had felt more intimate than the act itself. He's the only man you've ever known, you can't imagine yourself being with anyone else.

He kisses you again, his body pressed to yours. You run your fingers down his neck, tracing the muscles in his shoulders, tracking them down to his ribs. You wrap your leg around his waist as your hands reach his backside, pulling him to you. You roll your hips against him, wanting more of him, needing him deeper inside you. 

He grunts as he shifts his weight onto one elbow, freeing his other hand to glide along your side before sliding under your body, wrapping around the small of your back as he grinds himself into you.

Your nails bite into his skin as his speed increases, you want to tell him to be careful, to be gentle with himself, he's been training hard recently and there's a lot depending on him looking after himself, but you can't, lost in the feel of him. 

He watches you intently, waiting for the telltale signs to appear. He hears a familiar gasp from you and smiles, watching as your head tips back and your eyes close, your back arching beneath him, your chest pressing to his as he finds that sweet spot that never fails to satisfy you.

His name falls from your lips and he knows he's won, giving himself the freedom to do nothing more than enjoy the fallout from your orgasm as it rolls through you, drawing him in and drowning him in pleasure as your body steals his climax too, spilling his seed inside of you and savouring every second of it. 

He'd told you once that lovebites were for children, that this is how a man claims his woman. You can't imagine being claimed by anyone else.

Once it passes, you both stay there, entangled, breathing heavily into the silent room. His eye drifts towards the mirror, yours soon following as you watch him commit the sight of you together to memory. He speaks first, meeting your eye in the mirror. “What did you wish for, at the fountain?”

Your eyebrows draw together, you don't know what you'd expected him to say, but it hadn't been that.

He gives your silence a sardonic smile, “It's my last chance to ask, I'd be a fool not to take it.” 

Your chest feels heavy, this isn't how you'd wanted this to end. You resign yourself to it, you owe him honesty. You can't bring yourself to face him head on, sometimes it's easier to speak to the reflection than the man himself and this is one of those times. Your voice is barely a whisper, “I wished that you'd stay.”

He nods, he already knew. He gives you a smile that will break your heart a thousand times when you think back on this moment. “And I wished that you'd come with me.”

You know. You'd always known. You swallow down the urge to cry, you won't make this harder for him. He looks down at you softly, his voice uncharacteristically kind, “I guess I was hoping for a different answer.”

You bring your hands to his face, brushing his hair back out of his eyes as you search his face, your voice a shaky whisper, your own sad smile a mirror of his. You love him. “I think we both were.” 

He nods slowly, sadly. He leans in and kisses you, one last time. It's deep and gentle and tells you more than he possibly could with words. 

When the moment passes and he moves away from you to gather his clothes, the loss of him feels oppressive, a weight in your chest that threatens to crush the breath from you. You excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean up, taking the time to push it all away, you can't fall apart now, just a little longer.

You grab your robe from the back of the bathroom door, steeling yourself before heading back out. You find him in the living area, looking at the boxes with his name on. You speak before he does, needing the return to practical matters before he looks at you and your resolve crumbles. “Your parents are coming by in the morning to collect them, before the movers get here.” After the airport, you think.

He looks up, his face blank, and nods, uninterested. It hurts. His suit jacket is carelessly gripped in his hand, his knuckles white with strain. This is it, you realise, he's really leaving.

Your heart thumps irregularly in your chest as he moves towards the front door, panic overwhelming you. You take a step towards him, your mind racing. Tell him, you think. Tell him something, anything. Tell him to stay, tell him to wait, say that you'll go. Say anything that'll stop him walking through that door, you know if you ask him, he will, you could do this thing. You could keep him. You take another step as his hand grips the door handle and he starts to push it open. Do it, you beg yourself, stop him. 

“Tooru!” 

He turns back to you, one foot across the boundary as he heads out into the night.

“I-”

A thousand thoughts and memories pass through your mind in the blink of an eye, a thousand things you wouldn't give up for anything, a thousand things that make him the man you love, the man you wouldn't change for the world. 

I love you. 

“I'm proud of you.”

He holds your gaze for a heartbeat that lasts a lifetime. He smiles, sad but genuine, nodding once before walking away and closing the door behind him, leaving his old life, and you, behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I don't know what happened, I've been melancholic and sentimental all week and I think it shows lol. I'm sorry if it's not what you were expecting!


	13. Interlude - Questions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So doing these alone in an echo chamber has been both challenging and liberating but if anyone who's made it this far would consider these few questions I have and, if you have any answers/opinions, wouldn't mind sharing them in the comments it would be so helpful for me! To anyone who doesn't, please don't worry! I'm not expecting anyone to and I hope you're still enjoying the stories ❤

Questions

Are there any boys in particular you'd like to see written about?

Are there any boys in particular that you'd want for a mini series?

If I was going to do another Bokuto/Akaashi/Reader chapter, how graphic would you be interested in the sex being? Because the options are.. plentiful.. with three people lol

For anyone who read the Mattsun chapters, would anyone want me to finish off the day or so I cut from the outline because I originally thought it was running too long?

How are the stories being first person only, would they be better with occasional POV's for the boys or is it preferable to only know one side of things so it feels more realistic?

What are people's opinions on long-form AU's (like coffee shop AU's) that try to include as many characters as possible? 

Is there anything you think I could be doing better?

Do you feel like I'm missing anything?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for everyone who's commented on the chapters so far, it literally means so much to me, every time I have a little wobble and think I'm messing things up, being able to go back and read the comments truly does wonders for my mindset. 
> 
> And if anyone takes the time to answer ANY of these questions – thank you thank you thank you! ❤


	14. You - Nishinoya Yuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nishinoya proves to be worth the wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after my little questionnaire it became clear that I have been neglecting the first and second year boys to a shameful degree so here's a Noya chapter! It's all fluff with a hint of blue balls, I'm not gonna lie, because I can't help but see some of these boys as anything but the sweet baby angels that they are, but I really enjoyed writing this one, even if it is probably much longer than it needs to be lol. And if it's a little thin on smut for your tastes then I apologise, but I'm working on it, I swear!

“Thank you, have a great night!”

The bell chimes as the last customers leave for the evening. You flip the sign on the door to closed before heading back to the counter to grab the cleaning supplies, listening to your uncle in the kitchen singing along to the radio, poorly but enthusiastically, as you go. 

The decision to spend the summer working here had been a last minute one. You'd finished high school not really knowing what you wanted to do now, college wasn't appealing and the thought of picking a career you'd be stuck in for the rest of your life was particularly daunting, so you'd as good as run away instead, packed a bag and headed to the coast to work for your uncle in his little waterfront cafe at a seaside resort town for a while, just until you figure things out. 

You'd been here a week so far and it was.. nice. The people were friendly, the work was easy, you spent your days mainly supplying giddy children and subdued elderly folk with milkshakes and ice creams, and on nice days the scenery was beautiful, walking along the beach at dusk had been something you couldn't have predicted loving quite as much as you do. 

All in all, you were glad you were here, even if sometimes it got a little lonely, spending most of your free time in your uncle's spare room. You were content to put that down to a little touch of homesickness though, after all, you'd never been away this long before.

You're wiping down the tables when the bell on the door chimes again, you turn to tell whoever it is that you're closed, only to witness a dark blur shoot past you and take a rolling dive behind the counter. 

Your brain short circuits for a second before you think to follow, peaking around the corner to see where it went. You're greeted with the sight of a boy, he looks to be about your age, with a blond streak in his hair sat on the floor with his back pressed up against the counter, panting. He grins up at you, genuine but apologetic. 

You don't really know what to say, “Can I-” before you can finish the bell chimes again and two angry looking men push through the door. You glance sideways at the boy on the floor, he's gone unnaturally still, listening, you think. Huh.

You take a step behind the counter as they approach, taking them both in, you wonder why they seem to be soaking wet. You harden your tone, channelling your best impression of your mother. “We're closed.”

The first guy snorts as the other looks around the tables, clearly searching for someone. You take another step closer to the boy, blocking him from sight with your legs as you do. The guy sounds pissed. “Did a kid come in here, about this high?” he gestures to his chest. His tone irritates you, he's also dripping water everywhere. 

“No. And I said we're closed, so if you don't mind?” You gesture towards the door, voice firm. You cut off any argument before he can make it, looking pointedly towards the noisy kitchen. “Or I can call my uncle and he can tell you the same thing, just less pleasantly?” You give them a flat smile, unwilling to budge. 

The second guy nudges the first, “He's not here.” 

They both give you a dirty look before heading back out the way they came. You follow them to the door, turning the lock behind them and watching until they're out of sight. “You can come out now.” you call to the mystery boy as you inspect the dirty water all over the floor, annoyed, “Great.” you mutter to yourself.

He springs up from behind the counter, eyeing you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Looking at him now, he seems kind of familiar. “Want to tell me what that was about?” If you were going to have to mop for him, it's the least he could do, really.

He laughs a little, not seeming keen to meet your eye, you wonder if he's shy. “I was walking back and saw them bothering some of the teenagers down by the pier.” You raise an eyebrow and he shrugs, “There was a bucket of old water right there, it made sense to me.”

You feel a ghost of a smile on your lips, they must have been in their mid-twenties, that he'd take on two of them to save some girls was pretty sweet, to be honest. You take his appearance in fully as he comes out from behind the counter, he's covered in bruises and scrapes, you wonder if they caught him before he managed to get away. If they did, he doesn't seem fazed. 

He edges his way towards where you're stood, looking guilty as he takes in the dirty puddles. Before either of you can speak a good-natured voice bellows from the kitchen door, “Has it been a week already? Have my niece get you the money!” 

The boy starts a little before turning to your uncle, smiling. “No, sir, that'll be tomorrow!” Your uncle gives a wave of acknowledgement before disappearing back into the kitchen. You blink after him, confused. 

When you turn back to the boy, questioning, he points towards the windows, your memory finally clicking back into place. He'd been cleaning the front window when you'd arrived last week, you knew he seemed familiar. You give a thoughtful 'ooh' as it all falls into place.

He spots the clock on the wall and starts towards the door, clearly having somewhere he needs to be. He stops before he reaches it and turns back, looking at the floor again, concerned, “I should help-”

You wave him off, honestly not bothered. “You did your good deed for the day, consider this mine.” You smile at him and he stares at you like a rabbit caught in the headlights. 

He lets out an embarrassed laugh and looks away, seemingly uneager to meet your eye again. “Well, then, I should, probably...” He gestures a thumb at the door before fumbling to get the lock undone. You watch him, bemused. When he finally gets it open he glances at you briefly, smiling awkwardly before offering you an overly loud 'good night'. 

You step towards the door to slip the lock back into place as you watch his back disappear as he runs up the street, hoping he gets wherever he's going safely, before heading out the back to grab the mop and bucket.

He turns up the next day just like he said he would, seemingly no worse for wear. You hear the clatter of the ladder before he sticks his head around the open door to ask if he can fill his bucket with hot water. You watch him work from inside the cafe, taking note of just how many of the locals stop to say hello to him or wave in greeting. 

You see him wave off the old man who runs the newsagents down the road, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm, the midday sun unforgiving, as he starts to climb the ladder to do the upstairs windows. 

You decide he deserves a drink, pouring him an orange juice with extra ice before heading to the outdoor seating, placing it down on the table nearest his ladder when he finally looks down at you. “No charge.” you offer, giving him a brief smile before heading back inside before he can respond. 

You hover near the counter until he climbs back down, pleased when you see him drink it down eagerly. Your uncle catches you smiling at seemingly nothing, waving a hand in front of your eyes and laughing when you get embarrassed. When he spots the window cleaner he immediately heads outside to pay and chat with him, they seem to get on well, you notice. 

When he returns you can't resist prying just a little, curiosity getting the better of you. “He's a good boy!” Your uncle declares heartedly after explaining that he was from out of town too, having only appeared a couple of weeks before you. “He's saving up to travel the world you know?” He throws his hands up in the air in mock exasperation, “Kids these days, you're all so brave!”

You don't know what expression your uncle sees on your face but he drops his tone conspiratorially, nudging his elbow into your ribs playfully. “I could put in a good word for you if you like, you could do much worse than that boy!” You laugh him off, shooing him into the kitchen and back to work. 

As you absentmindedly wipe down the counter-top, you tell yourself it's the idea of what it would be like to travel the world, and not the cute boy, that's caught your interest.

You notice him more and more after that, he seems to always be passing by wherever you are, always on his way to some place or another. It also becomes clear that it's not just window cleaning he's doing, you also see him on the beach walking a small pack of rowdy dogs, and on a bike delivering ice to the local stores, before reappearing later that day with bundles of newspapers. You're pretty sure you even see him come off one of the little fishing boats when you're strolling along the pier one night, that blond lock of hair instantly recognisable to you at this point.

The days slip by into a week, then two, time marching on at a lazy but relentless pace. Your thoughts frequently returning to what you're going to do at the end of the summer, leaving you frustrated as you get absolutely nowhere closer to an answer.

As a particularly busy lunchtime rush is coming to an end, you find yourself eager to be elsewhere today, your mind distracted by what you should do with your evening after closing up. 

You place a tray of drinks down on a table, handing them out carefully before bringing the tray to your chest and thanking the group for their custom. As you turn away from the table, you can't help the tiny scream that escapes you as you find yourself nose to nose with a bear.

The, thankfully empty, tray clatters noisily to the floor as you turn away, placing a hand on your chest as you try to swallow your hammering heart back down to where it should be, apologising to the young family on the table beside you who are currently laughing, not unkindly, at your expense while you try to gather yourself.

You lean down and snatch the tray from the floor, muttering, before inspecting the offending mascot standing before you. It's a motley of browns and yellows and wearing an apron with the name of the small theme park at the other end of the beach on it. You also notice it has a friend. 

The second bear gives you a casual wave of acknowledgement, one you tentatively return, your confusion clear, as your eyes flick between the pair of them. “Can I... help you?” Your voice pitching higher with every word, feeling more than a little ridiculous when no answer is forthcoming and it just stands in front of you, unreacting. “Ooook, well I'll just..” you squeeze past it and carry on with your work, heading over to another table to take their order. 

When you're done you turn back around only to jump out of your skin as you come face to face with it again, it having apparently snuck up on you as you were busy. You stamp one foot, annoyed with yourself. “Really?!” you ask the expressionless mascot. You having a sneaking suspicion the other one is laughing at you from the way it's shoulders are shaking.

This time when you try to move around it, it slowly turns with you, watching, triggering weird flashbacks to a horror game you'd played that felt an awful lot like this. You try to shake it off, turning your back on it as you walk away, only to hear it follow, drowning you in the ridiculous urge to speed up. Somewhat predictably, it copies, leaving you in the unforeseen situation of darting between the tables as a bear wearing an apron gives chase and you find yourself unable to do anything but flee and laugh nervously. 

It corners you behind the counter and you finally give in, calling for your uncle, in an embarrassingly petulant tone, to come save you. When he emerges from the kitchen he looks more than a little amused to see you holding the tray up like a shield. “It's not funny!” you complain, still laughing.

He waves a hand in the air, “Of course, of course.” before turning to the mascot, “My apologies Bear-san, my niece clearly has no talent with wild beasts such as yourselves.” You roll your eyes as he grabs a couple of candy bars from the back shelf, “After all, everyone knows any good, self-respecting bear is open to bribes.” He hands your harasser a bar before throwing one to it's friend, who snatches it out of mid-air, tears it open, and disappears it under the mascot head at an alarmingly quick speed. “Now go on, off with you!” He laughs good-naturedly as he shoos the two out of the place. 

Your uncle slaps you on the back fondly before heading back to the kitchen, leaving you blushing as everyone wants to share a smile with you before returning to what they were doing before your amusing little interruption. You head over to the open door to peak down the street after them, shaking your head when you see that they appear to be wrestling at the end of the road, playfully pushing at each other before one takes off running and the other gives chase.

Early the next morning you're wiping off the morning dew from the outdoor seating, mindlessly humming a tune of your own making, when you almost have a heart attack as it reappears, alone this time, seemingly from thin air, arms raised as it pounces towards you, giving, what you suppose is meant to be, a hearty roar. 

You blow out a heavy breath as you swallow down embarrassment and irritation. “You!” you repeatedly slap at it with your tea towel as it mock cowers, holding it's hands above it's head before finally running away. “Bears don't even roar!” you shout after it, only considering how early it is when you hear your own voice echo back to you. You cover your mouth with your hand as you glance about, relieved to find no one else in sight. You give one last glance up the road, shaking your head, annoyed that you're smiling. Stupid bear.

It gets you another twice as the week goes on, once while you were cleaning up after closing, you'd turned towards the window only to find it pressed up against the glass, arms stretched high, as you'd yelped loud enough for your uncle to feel the need to lean out of the kitchen to check on you. 

The second was when you'd been on a break, lost in thought on a bench overlooking the beach as you'd picked at your lunch, nearly causing you to choke to death right there and then as you'd accidentally inhaled your food in shock. It had at least seemed to feel bad about that one, hovering around you until you were done coughing, shaking it's head fervently as you'd asked it if it was actually trying to kill you, only seeming content to move on once you'd told it you were fine and to go on with it's day.

The next morning you actually see it coming as you write on the outdoor chalkboard menu, seemingly making no effort to sneak up on you today. You eye it suspiciously as it approaches, prepared for the inevitable jump scare coming your way. What you're entirely unprepared for, however, is the fistful of wild flowers it presents to you. 

You both stand there for a second, unmoving, until you speak. “For me?” Your eyes flick between the bear and the flowers, becoming annoyed with yourself when you realise you're trying to look the mascot head in the eye like you would a person. You reach out a hand to take them anyway, bringing them to your nose as you inhale the fresh leafy smell, a stark contrast to the sea-salted air you'd become used to this last month. You smile down at them before looking back at your new friend, “Thank you.” you say, genuinely.

It seems unsure what to do with itself as it fidgets awkwardly before pointing towards the beach and waving goodbye, walking away at a brisk speed as you watch it go.

That night you're up in your room after your shift, lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling as the regular questions gnaw away at you. You sigh, sitting up and scanning the room for something to distract you. Your eyes settle on the bunch of wildflowers now sat in a glass of water on your windowsill, before being drawn past them, looking at the beautifully clear evening sky, leaving you wondering why you're still inside.

You grab your jacket and head out the door, practically skipping towards the beach front as you breathe in the crisp air, feeling better already. You wander along the waterfront before heading out onto the nearly deserted pier as the sun starts to set, sitting down on the farthest point, letting your legs dangle over the water as you lean on the lower rung of the railing, watching the colours change.

You get the sensation of being watched and glance around to find your new bear friend hovering a few metres away. You give it a long look, struck by the oddness of the scene, your tone thoughtful, “You know, this week has felt a bit like a fever dream since you appeared.” 

You turn back to the setting sun and are only half surprised when the mascot takes a seat beside you, you watch, amused, as it struggles to wedge it's feet under the railing so it can hang it's legs over the edge like you. You both sit there in silence for a second before it reaches out and puts a padded paw over your hand, in what you assume is meant to be a sweet gesture. 

You snort a laugh, raising an eyebrow. “If you turn out to be an old man, we're gonna be having a falling out, just so you know.” It shrugs, defeated, and starts to stand, only stopping when it gets the intended laughter from you, before settling back beside you easily. “Well,” you prompt, nodding at the head, “what are you waiting for? A drumroll?” 

You roll your eyes when it nods, but play along anyway, drumming your hands on the railing in front of you as it provides the dramatic reveal.

When your eyes land on that familiar blond streak of hair, you look away, shaking your head as you laugh, unreasonably pleased, before turning back to him. “You, huh?” 

He gives you a winning smile, his cheeks a little pink, as he discards the mascot head behind you both. “You really didn't know?” He looks proud when you shake your head. 

You both watch the last of the sunlight disappear over the horizon, surprisingly comfortable in each others company, it feels nice, you think you could do this more often. He speaks before you can say anything, “Would you maybe want to go on a date with me?” 

You turn towards him, surprised. He's not looking at you, but the faint blush on across his cheeks tells you that you didn't mishear him. He really is cute. You nod, certain. “Ok.”

He blinks at you, seemingly shocked at your easy answer. You smile at him, wrinkling your nose. “As long as you leave the bear suit at home, that head is the worst thing I have ever smelled.”

He laughs loudly at that. It's a good laugh. 

He's waiting for you at the end of your shift the next afternoon. There's a moment of awkwardness, but it passes quickly when he reaches out for your hand, you take it comfortably, his skin warm and rough against yours. You like it. He smiles as you pull him towards the theme park, more than ready to take full advantage of his staff discount.

One thing you learn about Nishinoya Yuu almost immediately is how fun he makes everything feel. 

The theme park is terrible. It's old, and rickety, the rides are all at least twenty years old and creak and groan like they're on their last breath, the games are janky and the prizes are the lowest quality you've ever seen. And, still, it might be the most fun you've ever had.

He tackles everything enthusiastically, he's excited to go on every ride, he's addictively competitive on the arcade games, making every time you win immensely satisfying, he wants to try all the food, and show you all the things he likes about the place. 

Hours pass by unreasonably quickly, never a dull moment with him by your side. It's a genuine surprise when they announce that they'll be closing soon.

He wanders out of the front gate with you, a bag of free food from one of the stalls in one hand, your hand in the other, while you carry a miniature version of his mascot form in your spare hand, a prize he'd won when he'd managed to get on to the high-score board on the boxing arcade game. How impressive you'd found it had not gone unnoticed, there was a certain swagger to his walk, that hadn't been there before, after that.

You both sit on one of the benches on the beach to eat your free meal, the bread being especially good considering it was almost a day old. You start to struggle to finish your second one, resorting to pulling it into bits and tossing it to the gulls that are lurking around your table, waiting for scraps, as you listen to him explain about how he'd come here for the summer with his grandad who was here visiting his girlfriend. Clearly the Nishinoya men hold onto their vitality late into their old age.

“Are you really going to travel the world?” You ask during a lull in the conversation.

He looks over at you, his mouth full of food. He does the best attempt he can at a smile, nodding enthusiastically. It had sounded like a lofty goal when your uncle had first mentioned it, looking at him now though, you didn't doubt it. The idea suited him. You smile, “Where do you think you'll start?”

He chews his mouthful slowly, thoughtful, before swallowing it all down in one. He wipes the back of a hand over his mouth, shrugging. “I haven't decided yet.” he says easily, “It depends how much money I can get together in the next month.” 

You open your mouth to ask why only a month, realisation dawning on you half a second later. That's the end of the season, the resort will be winding down after that, you'll be going home and he'll be...

Something pulls in your chest uncomfortably, a month suddenly doesn't feel like very long at all. You wish you had more time with him. He watches you carefully as you think, his mouth gradually turning downwards. You force a laugh, pushing the thought aside. “It sounds amazing.” It's not a lie. 

He smiles at you, nodding. “I'm lucky. This month feels like it's going to be more fun now, too.” 

Your cheeks warm a little, you didn't think he was wrong about that either. You glance away as he takes another bite, looking for something to distract you from the little shred of anxiety still sitting in your chest. You spot the pier in the distance and smile, deciding you want one more victory before the date's over. “Hey Noya,” he looks up from his food at you. “I'll race you to the pier.”

“What?” Is all he manages to get out around his mouthful of food, before you chuck the mascot toy at him and set off running down the beach, laughing gleefully as the gulls take off around you, leaving him to gather up the remaining things before he can even start to follow and gifting yourself a guaranteed victory. 

Or so you'd thought. 

When he still manages to beat you there by a hairs breadth you can't believe it, holding onto the stitch in your side, leaning your back against one of the wooden pillars sticking up out of the sand as you catch your breath. “How did you win?” You ask in disbelief. 

He's bent over double beside you, hands on his knees as he pants heavily, both bear and food having been hastily shoved into the bag, now dropped and forgotten at his feet. “My speed stats,” he says between breaths, “are unrivalled.” He grins up at you and you can't help but to return it. “So,” he continues,“what do I win?”

You think for a minute as you both recover, inevitably coming up empty. You shrug, “What do you want?”

He stands upright slowly as he makes a show of thinking, humming thoughtfully as he takes an innocuous step towards you. “Maybe..” He stops directly in front of where you're leaning against the pillar, oh, is all you have time to think before his lips press briefly against yours before pulling away again, a smile on his face. “that.”

You smile back and he doesn't move away, so you lean forwards so you can kiss him this time, lingering there until he takes the initiative and you feel a tentative tongue brush against your lips. You accept him eagerly, excitement flushing you as he presses his chest against yours, following your kiss until you're pushed fully back against the wood. He tastes like salt and sweet bread. You both stay there for a long time.

The next two weeks pass in a blur. He waits for you after your shifts when he's free, you take him lunch when he's working all day, you find time to sneak away to the beach whenever you can, both of you eager to waste your hours away together. You kiss, a lot. The lack of privacy becoming increasingly bothersome as it becomes clear both of you want more. 

You're lying on your bed late one night reading through one of the travel brochures he'd shown you when you hear a familiar clatter outside. You drop the brochure to your chest as you cock your head, listening, startling a little when there's a tap on your window. Your room being on the upstairs floor. 

You take a peak around the curtain, relieved to be greeted by Noya's smiling face. You slide your window open, taking in the sight of him. “I thought I heard your ladder.” you laugh as you take a step back, letting him swing a leg through your window as he climbs over the sill. 

He spins on one foot awkwardly as he catches his balance, before turning to you grinning. “I can't believe I didn't think of that before.” Before you can speak he's kissing you, his hands either side of your face as pulls you in close. You let out a little surprised noise before you realise, you're alone with him, you can do whatever you want. 

You melt against him as he settles his hands on your hips, eager for more of his touch. You move towards the bed and he follows easily, his kisses only faltering as your legs hit the bed and you sit down abruptly. He's flushed and a little breathless as he looks down at you, realisation settling onto his features. You'd thought this had been his plan, but apparently he'd just been moving on instinct. You could live with instinct. 

You smile before kissing him again, pulling him on top of you as you lay back, giving him no excuse not to follow. His body presses against the length of you and you can't help the pleased noise that escapes you. It spurs him on, his tongue pushing deeper into your mouth, his lips firmer against yours. 

You lift one knee, pressing the flat of your foot against the bed, toes curling, as you fight the urge to grind against him, doing your best not to come across as sex-starved as you feel right this second. You just want more of him. 

Apparently the feeling is mutual as his hand moves to your leg, squeezing your thigh as you kiss, before sliding it higher towards your hip. His path falters at the hem of your top, seemingly unsure of where to go from there. You take the choice from him by pulling your shirt out from under his hand, leaving him pressed against your bare skin, undeniable permission to be under your clothes. 

He makes a sound like a moan and his hips press in a little tighter against yours. His hand travels the last of the way to your breast, palming you through your bra as your temperature sky-rockets. You want more. You grip the bottom of his t-shirt in your hands and start to pull it from him. 

There's a knock on your door and he startles like a cat, falling from on top of you and crashing to the floor beside your bed. Both of you panting into the silence as you stare at the door. Your uncle's voice carries clear through the wood, his tone full of mirth. “Nishinoya-san, your ladder seems to be blocking my doorway.”

Noya visibly cringes, his face flushing deeply. “Y-yes, sir.” You guess you hadn't been the only one who'd heard him coming.

Footsteps disappear down the hallway and you collapse back onto the bed, hands covering your face. You turn your head towards Noya, laughing. He shakes his head in return, his voice rueful, “I should probably take the hint and leave.” You nod, disappointment welling up in you. 

He picks himself up and heads back towards the open window, you follow behind him to see him off. When he's steadily in place on the ladder he leans towards you for a goodbye kiss. It's hungry and needy and leaves you both unsatisfied. When he pulls away he stares at you in a way that reassures you you're not the only one who wishes he could stay.

His face suddenly brightens as a thought comes to him. “We should go camping.”

At first you're confused, until you realise it'd give you the whole night together. You nod, agreeing easily. He smiles broadly before kissing you again. When he finally drags himself away, you agree to ask for a couple of days off in the next week. You go to bed giddy, genuinely excited at the prospect of camping for the first time in your life.

Your uncle turns out to be surprisingly agreeable to you having time off, even going so far as to dig out his cooler so you can take food with you on the trip, Nishinoya being the one to take it upon himself to arrange the travel and sleep situation.

On the morning you're due to leave, you get up extra early, settling on denim shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and walking boots to wear before taking advantage of the cafe's kitchen to pack out the cooler with food and drinks, the excitement starting to get to you.

When you hear a beeping car horn you know it's him. You grab the cooler, giving a quick thank you hug to your uncle before heading outside, being met with Noya hanging out the drivers side of his grandad's beat up old banger of a car, grinning and waving excitedly.

He hops out to take the cooler from you, putting it into the backseat and seatbelting it into place as you get into the passenger side, eager to be off. He hops in beside you grinning. “Ready?”

You grin right back, “Ready.”

The drive turns out to be surprisingly nice, he's a better driver than you would've guessed, and the scenery heading inland is beautiful. Wherever you're heading is somewhere he's clearly familiar with, not needing to check for directions at any point, and when the conversation finally peters out, the silence that's left is a comfortable one. 

You spend the time admiring the view, occasionally hanging your hand out the window until it goes numb as it cuts through the rushing air, repeatedly amused by the loss of feeling. It's in the middle of doing this that he notices you're humming along with the radio, he looks over at you, curious. “You like this one?”

When you nod, he smiles, turning it up loud for you as he taps his finger to the beat on the steering wheel. It's a small gesture, a tiny little thing, but that he thought to do it for you brings a genuine smile to your face. You really like him. 

It takes a couple of hours to get to your destination, a heavily wooded small mountain, or a very big hill, you're not really sure when the changeover happens. The gravel trail up is a little rough for the old car but it manages, Noya following it to it's end, a small shaded clearing about half way up the hillside. 

When the car comes to a stop you're the first one out, eager to stretch your legs and investigate your surroundings. The air smells different here, it brings a smile to your face. You turn back to Noya and catch him watching you, “Do we need to do anything before we go exploring?” 

He looks up at the sun, gauging how long the shade will last, before shaking his head. “Nah.” He leads you past the grass clearing you'll be setting the tent up on later and to a little dirt trail heading into the woods, “I have something to show you.”

A minute or so along the path you hear the water before you see it. He takes your hand and leads you through the underbrush before you come out onto the edge of a natural pool, a slow stream leading in and out of it, leaving the main body of water practically still, while remaining invitingly clear. It takes your breath away.

You turn towards Noya to tell him how beautiful it is, only to find him undressing. You can't help the way your eyes follow the lines of his torso before meeting his eye, distracted. He blinks at you, “We're swimming, right?”

You huff out a laugh, unsure how to answer. “Uhh.” You watch him as he discards more clothes, getting no complaints from you. 

When he gets down to his boxers he catches you watching him and smiles, “Suit yourself.” He moves past you easily, heading to the rocky side of the pool, climbing onto the largest boulder there before diving, cannonball style, into the water below. You laugh as his head pops up above the water and he woops. “The waters great!” 

You take off your shoes and socks and leave them next to his pile of discarded clothing, picking your way carefully out onto the rocks before settling on the edge of one of the smaller boulders, your feet dangling into the cool water as you watch him frolic. 

After a few minutes of amusing himself he swims over to where you are, taking a hold of your ankle and threatening to pull you in. “Don't you dare.” you warn, laughing as he splashes water at you before diving under the surface again. It looks like fun. 

You always did hate missing out. 

When he surfaces again, his lungs unable to go without oxygen for any longer, he spins around to grin at you, only to find your space vacant. You watch him tread water for a second before he spots you, now up on the largest boulder, stripped down to your underwear and ready to dive in just like he did. 

What you don't see is the way he stills as he stares at you, or how his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, or the way he grins as you dive in without hesitation. You do what you want, but only when you want to do it. He likes that about you. 

You resurface at break neck speed, the temperature of the water knocking the air from you. He's there to greet you as you gasp in a breath. “It's s-so c-cold!” He laughs at your discomfort, revelling in your surprise. You splash water at him in protest. “I'm g-getting out.” 

“No no no, you'll get used to it, I promise!” He laughs as he grabs for your hand, pulling you back towards him. 

You shake him off as you make a break for land. He dives under the water and grabs your ankle, stopping you mid-stroke and making you yelp, leaving you with a mouth full of river. He resurfaces facing away from you as you spit out the dank tasting water, leaving him open to your attack as you push him back down under the surface by pushing yourself up onto his shoulders. 

He gets away from you easily and you crash into the water, laughing. He pulls you back towards the shallows by the waist, holding you in place as you push wet hair out of your face. 

When he doesn't let go, you feel yourself start to warm, blood flooding your skin as he stares at your lips and you tentatively place your hands against his bare shoulders. It's no surprise when he kisses you, but your focus is stolen by just how secure you feel in his hands, even when he's acting shy, he always feels so sure of himself when he's touching you.

You drape your arms over his shoulders lazily as you lean into his kiss, your body pressing against his, his warmth alluring in the cold water surrounding you. You let a soft moan escape you and you feel his body tense against you. You kiss him once more before pulling away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 

“I don't know about you,” you say, “but I could do with something to drink. Should we head back?”

He nods, absently, you're not even sure he's listening. You laugh as you move away from him, climbing out of the shallow water and back onto the rocks, stopping only to scoop up your clothes and de-wedgie yourself, before slipping your t-shirt over your wet underwear, reasoning it's not that different than when you're wearing a bathing suit. When you turn back you find him watching you, unmoving, where you left him. 

“Aren't you coming?” you ask, confused.

He laughs nervously and glances away, “I'll be there in a minute. I'll follow you down.” 

You consider arguing until a breeze cuts through the trees and leaves you shivering. You shrug, slipping your bare feet into your boots and heading back towards the clearing, seeking the warmth of the sun, annoyed with yourself for not thinking of bringing spare clothes. 

When he finally returns, he finds you lying in the grass, stretched out so you can dry off in the sun, the open cooler beside you. He drops down onto the ground next to you in wet boxers and his t-shirt, apparently unwilling to let his jeans get damp either. 

He scoffs down a couple of rice balls before drinking a whole bottle of juice in one go. He sighs contentedly before lying beside you in the grass, joining you as you cloud watch, his hand reaching into the space between you, his fingers tangling with yours.

Conversation ebbs and flows as you both lie, half dozing in the sunshine. Eventually, talk comes back to his impending travels, his voice becoming animated and excited as he rattles off places he wants to go. You roll onto your stomach as you listen to him, picking daisies from around you and splitting the stems with the nail of your thumb before linking them together into a chain.

He wants to walk the Great Wall of China, to see the pyramids in Egypt. “Did you know in Russia there's a hole so deep you can throw things into it and never hear them hit the bottom?” He tells you about the hotels in Europe that are made entirely from ice, and roads that are so old they were laid by the Romans. “In Istanbul they have markets so big that you can find almost anything you can imagine.” He wants to go as far north as he can possibly get and watch the northern lights from an igloo, and go far enough south that he can see penguins in the wild, he wants to fish in the Bermuda Triangle and swim with sharks off the Great Barrier Reef. “And in South America, they have these flat-topped pyramids where they'd behead people and pull out the still beating hearts of their enemies.” he says it like it's the coolest thing he's ever heard.

You laugh fondly as he rambles, his excitement infectious. 

He looks up at you and laughs, embarrassed to have been talking for so long as you finish your chain, finally connecting the last and first daisy and forming a crown. You lean over and place it carefully onto his head.

He lifts a hand to his head and gently touches the flowers before grinning up at you. “Show me how to make you one.”

By the time he's finished, you've dried off enough to be able to put your shorts back on comfortably. Still, you choose to stay barefoot, enjoying the feel of grass under your toes.

Noya chooses to stay as he is, taking the opportunity to impress you, doing a fairly solid handstand before taking a few shaky steps on his hands before collapsing to the ground. You ask if he can cartwheel, smiling when he says no. You tuck the hem of your shirt under your bra to keep it from riding up as you take your turn to show off.

He rewards you with a hearty round of applause before demanding you teach him how to do it. After half a dozen failed attempts he's still undeterred, and it starts to become clear why he always looks so beaten up.

A cool breeze cuts across the field causing you to shiver. He squints up at the sky and frowns a little. “We should probably set up the tent.”

You watch as he unbundles it all from the boot of the car, not having even the foggiest of ideas about where to start. He seems confident enough for the both of you though, chatting happily about guy-lines and groundsheets and like a dozen different type of pole attachments. 

When he finally looks up and finds your face entirely blank, he changes tactics, speaking in short sentences and giving you only very specific instructions. You're so relieved you can't even find it in yourself to feel patronised. He's kneeling on the ground in front of you as he points to the stakes at your feet, asking you to pass them to him. You give a mock salute, “Yes, Senpai!”

He clutches the shirt over his chest, groaning loudly as he falls back onto the grass, smiling broadly up at the sky. “Ryuu's gonna be so jealous.”

It takes a while but you finally get the tent up. You look at your combined efforts and can't help but feel a little concerned, you couldn't say why exactly, it just looks a little.. off. Noya seems unbothered though and that's enough for you.

He grabs two sleeping bags from the boot of the car, asking you to grab his backpack. You follow him inside the tent before taking a second to lie down on your side, stretching out happily, pleasantly surprised by how comfy it is. 

You glance over at Noya and find him watching you intently. Your cheeks get warm as you remember what initially triggered the idea of this trip. You're going to spend the night together. You don't miss the ache the thought sets off in you.

You smile as you watch him swallow, wondering if his thoughts are like yours. He clears his throat, his voice a little strained. “We should probably eat the rest of the food before it gets dark.”

The meal is unusually quiet, anticipation and anxiety simmering at you both. Noya also keeps glancing out of the opening of the tent at the quickly darkening sky, the cloud cover rolling in thick and heavy. Even you can smell the rain on the air.

When the first heavy drops start to fall he does the zip up, closing you both in together for the night. You lay back on your sleeping bag and stare up at the tent roof, listening as it starts to pour down, the sound surprisingly relaxing. 

You feel something brush against your arm and turn to see Noya lying down beside you. One arm bent under his head, the other pressed against yours, your hands only a hairs breadth apart. You watch him as he definitely doesn't look your way, smiling fondly as he reverts back to being shy.

“Noya?” you say softly. You take the opportunity to steal a kiss as he turns to you, pleased when he doesn't let you get away easily, eagerly following you as you let yourself be caught. He smells like the sun.

The shyness melts away and he turns onto his side to lean over you. You'd thought it'd feel more urgent when it finally came to it, but you're happy to be proven wrong as he slips a hand under your neck and kisses you deep and slow. You shiver at the thought of him taking his time with you, your hand reaching for the front of his shirt to keep him close.

His leg slips over yours as his hand moves to your thigh, his touch on your bare skin feels different than when he'd come to your room that night, the sensation more intense than you'd anticipated. You fight the urge to squeeze your thighs together, not wanting to hurry him but still desperate for some kind of release. 

His hand moves higher, pausing only briefly at the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath it, not needing your encouragement this time. He feels your stomach shiver from the contact and it makes him bold, slipping his hand under the cup of your bra and running his fingers over your bare breast. 

He brushes against your nipple and it makes you gasp, your thighs squeezing together as your hips roll against him without your permission. He takes it as an invitation and moves between your legs, you can feel he's already getting hard as he grinds against you, slow and steady.

You moan into his mouth as your body begs for more. You pull at his clothing as you rub your leg against his, your back tensing and breath catching every time his thumb brushes against your nipple. After a month of wanting him you can't wait anymore. 

You slip your hands between your bodies as you undo your shorts, he freezes as he pulls away from your lips, breathless and flushed as he stares down at you. 

It's in this silence that you become aware of a sound that seems out of place from the torrent of raindrops hammering against the tent. You see when he notices it, too. It definitely sounds like dripping. 

He glances around you both before moving off of you, your body's disappointment at the loss of him is palpable as you sit up and watch as he inspects a high corner of the tent. Poking curiously at the spot where water seems to be getting it.

There's an audible pop as one of the poles comes away from it's setting and you hear Noya swear as the whole tent collapses on you both. 

Chaos ensues. 

After much shouting, mainly to be heard over the rain, and much inappropriate laughter, you both fight your way out of the tent before making a break for the car, the darkness and weather making it a surprisingly difficult task. 

Luckily, being alone up here meant that the car was still unlocked with the keys left in it. You dive into the passenger side as Noya circles the car to the drivers door. Both doors slam shut and you both just sit there, panting, before he finds the overhead light switch and turns it on. You laugh first, the pair of you looking a bit like drowned rats. You're pretty sure you're soaked to the bone as you begin to shiver.

He pushes his hair out of his eyes as he wipes the rain from his face. He glances at you and tips his head towards the boot as he puts the keys into the ignition to turn the heaters on. “There should be a spare top back there.” 

You kick your muddy boots off into the footwell before climbing into the back seat, you dig your phone out of your pocket, the only thing you'd thought to grab before fleeing the tent, and turn the light on, pointing it into the boot of the car. “What am I looking for?”

“There should be a backpack somewhere.” 

You dig around for a second before you turn back to him, concerned. “You mean the one you asked me to take to the tent?”

He looks back out into the clearing and tips his head back, sighing. “Shit.”

He's out of the car before you can tell him not to worry about it, slamming the door behind him and dashing into the darkness. You wait, anxiously, for his return. Relief and amusement mixing together as he comes back into sight, looking significantly more pregnant than he did when he left. 

He dives back into the drivers seat and shakes himself off like a wet dog, handing the backpack to you as he unravels the sleeping bag he'd managed to wedge almost entirely up his shirt, saving it from the worst of the rain. You're kind of impressed, actually.

You open the bag and find the shirt rolled up neatly near the top as he spreads the sleeping bag out on the passenger side seat, pointing all the air vents at it to try and dry it quickly.

You peel the drenched t-shirt from your body and leave it to one side, feeling around in your pocket for a second and producing a hair-tie so you can scrape your dank locks from your face and out of the way. 

You go to take off your shorts and have a pang of disappointment as you find the top button still undone, you sigh as you think of how close you'd come this time. Your eyes automatically drift towards Noya and freeze as you meet his eye in the rear view mirror for a brief moment before he looks away. 

You feel your face get warm as you realise he was watching you undress. You bite your lip to stop a nervous smile from showing, the thought of his eyes on you feeling illicit and exciting, your barely buried want pulsing in response.

You return to the task at hand, your movements a little slower, a little more careful. You peel the damp shorts from your legs before laying them over the back of the seat to dry, buying yourself an extra second to steady your nerves.

You angle your body in a way that gives you a tiny bit more privacy without turning away from him. You undo the clasp on the back of your bra and slip it off. You want to look at him, you want to know if he's watching, and if he is, if he likes what he sees, but you don't. Although you do take a certain amount of comfort in noticing that neither one of you is breathing as you slip his spare shirt over your head.

You decide to keep your underwear on, damp or not. 

With your seat taken up with the sleeping bag you lean back against the headrest where you are, watching the rain as you pull the shirt over your knees as you bring them to your chest, trying to hold onto some heat as the temperature keeps dropping. 

He gives you an apologetic look before cutting the engine, you might need it more later after all. He grabs the sleeping bag while it's still warm and climbs into the backseat with you, “Here.”

He places it over your lap as he settles beside you, lifting an arm, offering you his side for extra warmth. You smile, unfolding yourself from under your shirt as you scoot towards him, taking advantage of his offer by draping your legs over his lap and resting your head against his shoulder as he holds the makeshift blanket around you. 

He seems a little awkward as you press against him, your finger tracing the writing on his shirt, as he tries to find somewhere to rest his free hand. He settles on your knee, tentatively, as you pay him no mind, his breathing irregular against the top of your head.

His fingers twitch nervously before settling, more steadily, against your thigh. You look up at him in the dim lighting, his eyes meeting yours, he looks so focused on you that you feel your stomach flutter. 

You lick your lips nervously before speaking, “We still could?”

You don't have to elaborate further, he inhales deeply, “You want to?”

You nod, a little sad, “This could be our only opportunity, I want to before, you know, before we can't.”

He sighs and leans towards you, his lips brushing featherlite against yours, his breath hot and heavy. “Me too.”

It's all you need to hear. You slip your legs from his lap, turning to face him as you straddle his thighs. He scrambles to keep the blanket around you both, trying to keep the cold from you as you take his face in your hands and kiss him until he loses interest in anything but you.

His hands slip to your hips, squeezing them firmly as you settle your sex against him, his thigh muscles jumping and flexing underneath you as you rock your hips against him. His hands disappear up the back of your shirt as he pulls you closer, your waist, your hips, his hands are everywhere as he grasps for every inch of you he can.

You can't wait any longer. You push your underwear down your thighs, shifting awkwardly to get them past one knee, then the other before discarding them completely. You settle back into his lap to kiss him, his fingers digging into your thighs as you slip your hand between your bodies and palm his erection through his boxers, pleased to find him more than ready for you. 

You slip your fingers into his boxers, his breath stuttering as your skin meets his. “Wait, wait, wait..” he pants against your lips, “where's the bag?” 

You look around you before shifting your weight onto one knee and leaning over the back seat to reach for it. You're not proud of how loud the moan that escapes you is as he brushes his fingers against your slick sex, the sensation feeling like electricity in your veins. Your voice sounds needy to your ear, “Noya?”

He snatches the bag from your hand and unzips a side pocket, grabbing a loose condom before throwing the bag back into the boot. He slips the condom on smoothly before he pulls you back into his lap properly. 

You line him up against you, closing your eyes as you lower yourself down onto him, the stretch biting into you painfully, your own fault for being impatient. You still for a second and you feel his lips against yours, his voice concerned. “Does it hurt?”

You open your eyes to see him watching you intently, his jaw tense as he tries not to move inside you. You huff a laugh, shaking your head, “I'm just nervous.” you admit a little shyly, “I'll relax, just, be gentle with me?” 

His expression noticeably softens as he looks at you, “Of course.”

You smile at him, pushing his limp blond fringe out of his eyes as you kiss him again, rocking your hips ever so gently as your body gets used to him. His hands stroke your thighs, coming to rest at your hips as your movements become easier, his grip on you tightening as the first shudder of pleasure ripples through you, your breath catching as you inhale sharply, finally getting what you've been wanting for so long. 

The air in the car quickly becomes humid and damp as you both pant into the darkness. You sit up straighter, your head tipping back as your body seeks out more oxygen, bracing one hand on the roof of the car as you find your rhythm. He grits his teeth watching you ride him, his hand slipping under your shirt as he presses his palm to your mound, his thumb circling your swollen clit as you roll your hips onto him, your grip biting into his shoulder.

“You could come with me.” he says, his voice hoarse. You look down at him, confused, too lost in the feel of him to consider stopping now. “We could do this,” he runs his free hand along your waist, watching his length disappear into you, “every night, everywhere.” He looks up at you panting, a smile on his face, “And if you ever got sick of me,” he grunts as your body shudders against his touch, your moans music to his ears, “then you'd never be more than a day or two away from home.” 

He wraps his arm tight around your waist, pulling you down onto him, encouraging you to speed up as he coaxes your orgasm from you, his thumb relentless against your clit. Your mind clouds and your breath catches as something in you sparks and pleasure rolls through you. You hear him grunt before letting out a strangled moan as he can't hold off any longer. 

The enormity of the amount of relief you feel can't be understated, you've needed, not wanted, that for so long, you can't help it when you start to laugh. Tired and spent, but so so happy. 

He smiles at you before bringing a hand to the back of your neck, kissing you again for good measure, before helping you climb off of him without hurting either of you. You collapse into the seat next to him as he slips himself back into his boxers and ties off the condom. You lay back against the head rest, it feels like someone turned the gravity up as you fight the tiredness already creeping into the corners of your awareness. You think you could quite happily never move again. 

Noya has other plans, coaxing you back towards him, pulling you against his chest as he covers you both with the blanket, He strokes your hair for a second before speaking up, his voice quiet but steady. “I meant it, you know? You could come with me.” When you don't respond he carries on, “You could waitress, I'll work odd jobs,” he yawns loudly. “we could rent a room wherever we go, go wherever we want, leave whenever we feel like it.”

The hand stroking your hair starts to slow as sleep starts to take him. You listen to his heartbeat and the rain outside, thinking, could you really do it? Where else do you have to be? What else do you need to do? You think back, have you been homesick even once this past month? 

He starts to snore softly and it makes you smile. You curl up against his side, your mind swimming until sleep eventually takes you.

You wake when it's still dark out, instantly annoyed as your body screams at you in protest as you start to move, every part of you aching from whatever nightmare of a position you've been sleeping in. 

You feel a shake on your shoulder, “Hey, come on, we're gonna miss it.” You groan out a complaint, unable to form words yet as you're physically dragged into sitting up, vaguely aware of your shorts being shoved into your hands, “Come on, let's go.”

“Fine, fine.” you mutter, irritated. You somehow manage to get one foot, then the other, into your shorts, lying back so you can pull them up, managing the zip but abandoning all attempts at the button as your body gives up and sleep pulls you back down where you lie.

You become aware of pulling at your legs, you look down to see Noya tying your boots onto your feet, whatever he wants to do apparently can't wait for your consciousness to catch up. You whine his name at him as he laughs at you. “You're not a morning person, I see.” 

You grumble an agreement as he takes your hand and pulls you with him. You're pleased at least to find it's stopped raining, the clouds mostly dissipated, allowing enough light to see by as you pass by the drowned ruins of your tent and back onto the dirt trail, now significantly more tricky with a fresh layer of mud waiting for you. 

He keeps pulling you forward, excited. You pass by where you'd cut through the brush to go swimming yesterday, the water much louder than before, and follow the little trail to it's furthest point a few more minutes away, as it comes out onto a rocky plateau overlooking the valley below. 

He turns to grin at you. “We made it.”

You watch as the first glow of sunrise appears over the horizon and all of your complaints melt away. The colours are breathtaking, you realise you've never watched the sun rise before. 

You turn to see Noya watching, his features dancing with joy at the sight before him. You could do this every day, with him. A calmness settles over you. 

“Ok.” 

He looks at you, confused.

You meet his eye, smiling. “I'll come with you,” 

His face splits into a grin and he woops with joy, the noise echoing around you as you laugh. He runs a full circle around you before grabbing your hand and spinning you with him. He laughs again, genuine excitement pouring from him. 

He bounces back towards you, his hands going to either of your face, looking you right in the eyes. “You won't regret this.” 

You believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who replied to my questions, the feedback was so so helpful, I thought about replying to each person individually but didn't want to push my luck lol, but please know I'm so grateful so many of you took the time to comment. I've taken all of it on board and I'm now working on some new ideas for Tanaka and Asahi especially, as well as a couple of others so please bear with me for the moment. (I got jokes, lol) Thank you!


	15. Best Laid Plans - Sawamura Daichi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dadchi does what he does best.
> 
> Can I also just say I realised just how much I love this fandom when I found a specific tag for Daichi's thighs??
> 
> You guys are fucking awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this update is a little late, it was my birthday last week so everything got pushed back a few days.
> 
> Usually I try not to mess too much with established canon BUT this time I made his siblings twins for convenience and so I didn't have to name them lol.
> 
> Also, to anyone who considers themselves a Semi fan, I have two questions;
> 
> 1) What role do we think Semi has in his band? A singer, guitarist, drummer, etc.?  
> 2) What kind of music do we think they play?

You slip your key into the lock distractedly, headphones blaring, pleased to be greeted by an excited ball of fur bouncing and yipping at your knees.

“Yeah, yeah buddy, I know.” You laugh as you move into the house, pushing the front door closed behind you. You head straight towards the kitchen, humming, scooping up the dog's food bowl as you pass it and heading out into the lean-to to refill it for the second time today. 

The song hits your favourite bit and you take a minute to serenade the little dog, leaning down towards him, singing along at full volume, as he sits on the boundary line just outside the kitchen door, shaking with excitement about his upcoming meal.

He stares up at you imploringly as you place the bowl down in it's designated spot. You give him a long look, he's so adorable you can't torture him for too long. “Go on, then.” 

With permission given he springs into action, diving face first into his bowl, knocking the biscuits everywhere. You shake your head fondly, no matter how much mess he makes, at least you know there won't be anything left to clean up once he's done.

You spin on your heel to move out of the kitchen just to be greeted with a half naked man stood in the doorway. 

You have a miniature heart attack, yanking your ear buds out by the wire as you swear under your breath, taking a second to eye a dripping wet Sawamura Daichi, wrapped in nothing but a towel, smiling casually in your direction. 

You ignore the little flare of jealousy you always get at this time of year around the Sawamura's, the whole family tans easily, and well, and right now, fresh out of the shower, he looks practically honey dipped. You also take a moment to appreciate muscles. So. Many. Muscles.

You return his smile, laughing. “Daaaamn Daichi, you got ripped.” 

He looks down at himself like he hadn't noticed before now, giving you an awkward chuckle, as his hand grips a little more firmly to the towel around his waist. “Sorry I scared you,” his voice is as smooth and deep as ever, “I heard the front door and came to investigate, I should've known it'd be you.” 

You smile easily, turning your music off and slipping the headphones into your pocket, after four years away at college you couldn't exactly blame him. “I guess I can forgive you, this time at least.” 

“That's very gracious of you.” he concedes playfully with a tilt of his head. His eyes swing down to the dog, hoovering up every last biscuit like he's never eaten a meal before in his life. “Thanks for feeding him, too.” he rubs at the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. You take the opportunity to watch his bicep bulge, swallowing down the urge to comment. “I tried earlier but he growls every time I go near his bowl.”

You nod, unsurprised, the little guy always did like his routines and Daichi hadn't been around enough to become apart of them, yet. You look up at him, eyes brightening, “Wait, if you're back now, does that mean it's for good this time?”

His smile grows a little wider, “I am.”

You grin, genuinely pleased, the house hadn't been the same since he'd left. “The twins are gonna be so happy!”

The rest of the family would be back in a few days when their annual vacation ended, then your dog/house sitting role would revert back to the default babysitting duties you'd had for nearly six years now, watching the little ones while their parents work, taking over responsibilities that were originally Daichi's before he'd started his college prep classes with Koushi and they'd needed more hands around the house.

You'd been more than happy for the job, getting easy money from the nice family over the road being extremely appealing at age fourteen, but you'd come to truly love the Sawamura's. Their house felt more like home than your own by this point.

His smile softens as he holds your gaze, the silence between you lasting for a heartbeat too long before he looks away, chuckling. “Uhh, I should probably go get dressed.”

You smirk lazily, raising an eyebrow. “I don't know, I'm pretty sure most people would disagree with you on that one, Daichi.” His eyes widen a little and you can't resist sighing dramatically. “But if you insist, who am I to stop you?” 

You feel a wet nose press against the back of your leg, snorting, you lean down to ruffle the fur between his ears, “You ready for your walk, buddy?” When he sneezes in response you look back to Daichi, laughing, “My duty calls.” 

You step back towards the lean-to to grab his collar and leash as Daichi clears his throat before speaking, “I was going to head up to the school, call in on Ukai and the team.” Of course he was, you think fondly, you can take the boy out of Karasuno... “We could walk together, if you want?” He looks down at the dog eyeing him suspiciously from behind your legs. “It'd be nice if he learnt I'm not so bad sooner rather than later.”

The high school is the same as it's ever been, the grounds quiet with only a few clubs still on-site at this time of day. You can't help but notice the smile on Daichi's face growing bigger the closer you get to the gym, it makes him look like a teenager again. 

The kids all flock to him the second he steps through the door, only a few of the younger ones coming to greet the dog in your arms instead, pets on campus are a rarity after all. When Ukai finally drags them all away to restart their drills, you notice Daichi is practically glowing with pride. You nudge your shoulder against his, teasing. “You're such a dad.”

He shrugs easily, not bothering to deny it. “What can I say, I like big families.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Yours isn't big enough already?”

He chuckles and gives you a lop sided grin, “I don't know, I think there's always room for one or two more.” 

On the walk home he's more talkative than you've ever seen him, he covers a range of topics, from the volleyball team and his college studies, to the upcoming police examination he's preparing for, your comment about liking a man in uniform taken in good humour with only minimal stumbling on his part. 

He'd always been easy to tease this way, you'd never hesitated to point out how good looking the oldest Sawamura was. Your nearly decade-long crush on him comfortable and casual enough that it was no more than a running joke for you to torment him with now, just how you liked it. It was going to be nice having him around again.

You're at the house a few days later when the family car pulls in from their long drive back, and you get to see the pure joy on their faces to be greeted home by the eldest son. 

Many hugs, some tears, and a few complaints from the twins later, and you give Mrs. Sawamura a kiss on the cheek and quietly take your leave. She stops you at the front door, handing you an envelope with money in as payment for your help. You refuse it, happily, it had really been no bother after all. She frowns at you warmly as Daichi appears over her shoulder, curious as to what's being whispered about, his mother insistent that you deserve something in return.

“It's market day tomorrow down in the valley, would you like to come with us? We're taking the car.” She offers knowingly, fully aware of your one true weakness – clothes.

Your grin gives you away as your excitement takes over. You leave with a spring in your step, wondering how much money you could spare to take with you in the morning.

It had been as fun as you'd hoped it would be, spending hours digging through the stalls and pop ups looking for good deals. The cherry on top being when Daichi had unexpectedly appeared at one of the bigger stalls, removing the pile of clothes from your hands and taking them to the seller for you, pulling out the same envelope his mother had been holding the day before, under strict instruction to pay for whatever you'd planned on buying from that instead. Her offer to bring you here now seemed less like a kindly gesture and more like a cunning plan as it left you with absolutely no options but to just be grateful.

Still, now you were digging through the pile of new things on your bed, you couldn't help but be pleased. Living in a small town could get boring easily and shopping was a luxury meant to be enjoyed.

Your grin turns into something more mischievous as you find the top you were looking for, a fitted white baseball tee with the word 'DADDY' written across it in bold black letters. 

It had been in your hand when Daichi had appeared, you'd been considering taking a photo of it to send to him as a joke, but when he'd spoken you'd felt caught in the act and had, in a panic, shoved it into the pile of clothes you already had over one arm, unable to retrieve it before he'd bought and paid for them, completely oblivious. 

Still, it wouldn't be a total waste, it'd make for a good photo for your social. You didn't post nudes or anything like that, and you'd learned quickly not to leave your photos public, but still, it was nice to have a safe space to be a little risky from time to time. Not all girls in the country are country girls after all, and sometimes this girl likes to be told she looks hot by someone who hasn't known her since she was in diapers. 

You dig out your favourite black underwear and some white thigh highs, sitting in front of the mirror as you place yourself just so, twisting your pelvis and sucking in your stomach to accentuate the curve of your hips, as you pretend to be sitting comfortably, phone in your hand as you snap a dozen selfies, picking out the one you hate the least to post with the caption - 'Nothing like new clothes, thank you Daddy 😍'

Pleased with your own joke you change into something more comfortable before starting the monumental task of finding closet space for your new spoils.

Things return to normal surprisingly quickly, with Daichi settling back in like he'd never been gone. His dad returns to work, his construction job keeping him away for up to a week at a time, while his mother goes back to her night shifts at the care home. With Daichi back you're needed less but you're still around there often enough that you don't feel like you're missing out on too much, and any disappointment you might have felt evaporates entirely whenever you see how happy the twins are to have their big brother back. 

Seeing him out in the wild was always a pleasure, too. You'd been passing through the park with some friends, making the most of the sunshine, when you'd spotted him jogging. You'd immediately jumped at the chance to wolf whistle at him, smirking as your friends whispered amongst themselves about how good he was looking. 

As he'd passed by your group you'd taken the opportunity to be loud about your appreciations for his efforts, cheering him on like the drunk guy at a strip club. You see him roll his eyes as he shakes his head at you, clearly embarrassed, but his disapproval is somewhat dampened by the obvious smile on his face.

One weekend you're sat in the living room with the whole gang, including some of the extended family, gathered around the TV to watch Japan's soccer team compete in the international qualifiers. 

There's bodies everywhere and not enough seating, the twins relegated to the floor space at your feet in front of the arm chair, paying you no mind as you take turns mindlessly braiding their hair as you watch the match, both of them having been stubbornly refusing to let anyone cut it for the last few years, leaving them more than used to your idle fiddling by now.

Daichi comes in from the kitchen with a beer, hovering in the doorway to watch. You shift your things to one side and offer him the arm of your chair, pleased to have been helpful when he takes it gratefully.

A little while later, after a quick trip to the bathroom, you return to find your seat stolen by a very comfortable looking Daichi. He turns to you smiling, patting the arm. You give him a flat look before sitting down. “Thief.” you say, muttering, as he smirks up at you.

It doesn't take long for the twins to become distracted, their bickering turning into full blown play fighting as everyone else ignores them, knowing full well that, unless blood is drawn, there's absolutely nothing to be gained from trying to stop them.

You're left having to lift your feet into the air to save them from being run-over as their wrestling intensifies. You watch them for a minute, weighing up your options, before you hear Daichi chuckling. You're about to say something sarcastic when he reaches over and wraps his arm under your calves, pulling your feet towards his lap. 

You become a little warm as he turns your whole body like you weigh nothing, confirming those muscles aren't just for show, before placing your feet on the seat cushion next to his thigh, leaving you safe from their antics. You say a quiet thanks and then do your best not to move, surprisingly flustered at the interaction. Flirting at Daichi had always been easy, physical contact, however, well that was a different story. You're only human after all.

He relaxes much easier than you do, manspreading like a champ, leaving your feet tucked under his sculpted thigh. The contact is painfully distracting, you don't think you'd even be able to say what the score is right now if someone asked you, overwhelmed by this Greek God bullshit Daichi has going on while you stare, unseeing, towards the television.

You wiggle your toes slightly and feel him shift in his seat, you think you're about to get some relief before you feel his hand wrap around one of your ankles and squeeze, trying to get your attention. You check and find him looking concerned, “Uncomfortable?”

You swallow down all the funny things you could say, vaguely concerned you'll say something honest, and opt for denial instead, shaking your head casually, pretending that you hadn't even noticed.

He smiles and turns back to the TV, none the wiser. His hand stays where it is, wrapped loosely around your ankle, his skin warm on yours, as you try desperately to think about anything else other than how good he'd looked in nothing but a towel.

One Friday you find yourself back in the babysitting role as Daichi heads off out with Koushi for the night. 

You step into the kitchen to start cooking, immediately suspicious to see the twins huddled together quietly, whispering amongst themselves. You catch the word 'slut' and clip them both around the ears, blind-siding them in unison. “Mind your language.”

They both flinch, one of them whining loudly, “But that's what he said! He said the new teacher is a slut...”

To their bad fortune, they'd missed Daichi's approach as they'd turned to face you, the look of disapproval on his face severe as he'd clipped the pair of them for himself, his voice stern. “Language.”

They both groan out their complaints before stomping towards their room, pouting, you poke your tongue out at them as they pass, both returning the gesture before reaching the bottom of the stairs and inevitably racing each other to the top, turning into nothing more than a thundering of footsteps above you.

Daichi shakes his heads like a grumpy old man, you can just hear him thinking, 'Kids these days', the thought makes you smile. He turns back to you, his voice deep and warm, touching your shoulder gently as he passes you. “Thanks again for this.” 

“Of course.” You reply easily, happy to help out. “Make sure you give Koushi my love when you see him, talking on social just isn't the same as having him around.”

He raises an eyebrow at that, “I didn't know you and Suga were still in contact?” 

Your eyebrows draw together as you huff a laugh, genuinely puzzled. “Well, why would you?” 

He seems a little taken aback at your comment, not offended, but still, his smile falters a little as something you don't recognise flickers behind his eyes, gone as quickly as it had come. 

He huffs a weak laugh of his own, nodding. He makes a show of patting his pockets before going to grab his jacket, leaving with the reassurance that he won't be back too late, it's just a meal then home. 

You're awoken by the sound of his key in the front door. You stretch out on the sofa, yawning loudly as he enters the room, the clock on the wall showing it to be nearly 1am. You keep your voice soft as you greet him, “Welcome home.” You're hit with the smell of sake as he leans heavily against the doorframe. You laugh at the state of him, “Good meal?”

He chuckles a little too loudly for this time of night. “Very.”

You roll your eyes, at least he was happy. You stand up to grab your things, ready for some real sleep. You eye him as you pass, he seems very unsteady. “Am I going to have to help get you into bed before I go?” 

You'd meant it jokingly, but you get the feeling that's not how it plays to his drink addled ear, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline, eyes wide. “Huh?”

You shake your head as you slip on your jacket, laughing softly. “Sleep it off on the sofa, Daichi.”

You unlatch the front door but before you can step through it you feel him catch you by the wrist, pulling you back gently, his voice a low rumble. “Thank you,” When you meet his eye, he smiles, “for everything.” 

The confusion must be clear on your face because he continues, “The twins love having you around, the whole family would've been lost without you the last few years. Thank you for always being there.” 

You feel your heart swell at the unexpected thanks, your cheeks warming as you smile genuinely at him. “It's been my pleasure.” You mean it, you love the Sawamura's. 

He glances away, staring down at where his hand is still wrapped around your wrist. He starts to stroke his thumb gently across the back of your hand, leaving your chest tight from the affectionate gesture. “I just wanted you to know that we appreciate you.” He pulls his eyes back up to meet yours, a drunk blush across his cheeks. “I appreciate you.” 

You audibly swallow, god he's handsome. You force out a laugh, trying to display a casualness you definitely weren't feeling. “I didn't realise drunk Daichi would be so sentimental, if I'd known I would've filmed our little interaction.” 

He chuckles, deep and rumbling, before giving you that lop-sided smile you like so much, his tone suggestive. “I could live with that.” He stares at you for a second too long, leaving it feeling like a loaded statement. 

You clear your throat, overwhelmed by this level of attention aimed at you. You're much more accustomed to a reluctant acceptance of his kouhai's nonsense rather than.. whatever this is.

You gently extract yourself from his grip as you whisper a hurried goodnight, slipping out of the door and practically jogging across the street to your house. Thoughts of him keeping you awake long after you've gone to bed.

You're listening to music in your room the next afternoon when a familiar giddy screeching reaches your ear. You drop your phone on your bed and head over to the window to look down at the street, amused to see the twins taking turns trying to wrestle Daichi to the floor in their front garden, failing, obviously, but putting up a valiant effort nonetheless. 

You get caught up watching them play, laughing affectionately as he lifts the pair of them, one under each arm, and proceeds to spin them until he staggers to one knee, clearly dizzy, and probably more than a little nauseous after last night. You can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him when the twins inevitably recover quicker than he does, only to immediately start begging him to do it again. Poor guy. 

You freeze to the spot when one of the twins unexpectedly spots you in the window, waving wildly in your direction and causing Daichi's eye to travel up and meet yours as you desperately subdue the childish urge to drop to the floor and hide from sight, instead performing your best casual wave at the three of them. 

He smiles and waves you down, clearly inviting you to join them. You shake your head, apologetic smile pinned in place, exaggeratedly mouthing the words 'I can't, sorry' just to really sell the lie. He nods easily, no reason to doubt you, before being surprise attacked by his siblings in a dramatic kick off to Round Two of their mini match up. 

You take the opportunity to turn away, leaning against the wall before sliding to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest and covering your face with your hands, your body tense as you breathe out every last drop of air from your lungs. “Oh no.”

As the day creeps into evening you grab some money and head off down to Sakanoshita Market to pick up some junk food for the night, overindulging more than a little with all of your favourites to make up for your fluctuating mood. You narrow your eyes as you watch Ukai bag up your fourth share size bag of sweets and make a mental note to do some period math once you're done here.

The evening is unusually warm on the walk home, the air feeling humid and unpleasant. You're counting calendar days in your head as you make it to the front gate, lost in your thoughts, as a solid impact smacks you between the shoulders and coldness drenches through your top. 

You turn, furious, to see two guilty faces grinning at you from the other side of the street, one with a slingshot still aimed at you as the other holds colourful water balloons out in both hands, ready and waiting for the inevitable reload. 

“You little...” Muttering, you drop your bag of goodies into your front garden before taking off at full speed towards them. They immediately scatter, desperately trying to keep out of your reach at you chase them around the street and in and out of the garden, pleased with yourself when you spot their little pile of ammunition hidden under one of the bushes, arming yourself and evening the playing field dramatically.

You inevitably come to a stalemate, you, stood over the pile of water balloons, not stupid enough to give them the opportunity to restock, them, hidden from sight behind the garden wall, too stubborn to admit defeat. It's only broken when you hear a small gasp from one of them, before they both sprint their way over to where you are, pulling you down into a crouch so you're all hidden from view. 

When you try to ask what's wrong they both shush you before peaking through the foliage towards the street. You lean down to their level, taking a look for yourself, just to be greeted with the sight of Daichi returning from his evening run. It dawns on you that they definitely don't have permission to be out here right now, you smile down at the little troublemakers, never a dull moment.

You peer back through the leaves at Daichi as he does his warm down stretches just outside the gate, sweat soaked and breathless. And also completely defenceless. 

You reach down and retrieve the abandoned slingshot from the ground, unable to resist the opportunity. You load the biggest water balloon out of the pile into it before creeping, low and slow, into the best position. You hear when the twins spot what you're doing when there's a dramatic uptick in excited whispering, with just a touch of giggling mixed in for good measure. 

You wait for him to fully turn away, you figure his back would be the biggest target you could hope for. You try to aim strategically, knowing the weight will need to be accounted for. You pull back the band as taught as you can, waiting for your moment. 

In all fairness, it had been a beautiful shot. The arc the balloon had taken was downright majestic, it was just your aim that had let you down. Your joy had immediately turned to fear as soon as the balloon had smacked solidly into the back of Daichi's head, exploding dramatically and soaking him from head to toe. 

Everything went quiet, even the twins, as he'd gone stiff as a board, presumably in fury, and you'd slowly tried disappear into the shrubbery. When he'd turned, he'd immediately locked his eyes onto where the three of you were hidden, his voice flat. “I know you're there.”

None of you move. 

“Stand up.” his voice is firm. 

The twins do as they're told, revealing themselves without needing to be told again. You, however, do not.

“Who threw it?” 

You cringe, your eyes shutting tightly. When nobody speaks you risk a peak, still hoping you might get away with this, until you're met by the sight of both twins pointing shamelessly down at where you're crouched. Your mouth drops open, your voice a harsh whisper. “Really?” 

There's only one thing for it. 

You make a break for it. Darting out into the garden and towards the front wall, impressed with yourself as you manage to hop over it without falling on your face. 

Your elation doesn't last long, before you're even across the street you feel a solid arm wrap around your waist, stopping your escape abruptly, before he turns you on the spot and picks you up, fireman style, over his shoulder and carries you back towards his house. His voice rumbling, “You want to act like one of the kids?” 

When he gets onto the grass, he's met by the twins, cheering him on, demanding he spin you. You let out a strangled yelp and try to wriggle free, your hands gripping the back of his shirt as you kick your legs. “Daichi no, Daichi!”

You words do exactly nothing as the little traitors get their wish and he spins you until you think you might actually vomit. Luckily it takes a toll on him too, leaving him wobbly and unsteady as he drops you both to the ground, exhausted. 

You groan, loudly, taking the opportunity to kick out at him. He catches your foot easily, there being exactly no power behind it and laughs, holding onto it in case you find the energy to take a second swing at it, his voice unapologetic. “You asked for it.”

“I ask for a lot of things,” you complain petulantly, “why does this have to be the one I get?”

He turns his head towards you, looking self-assured, his voice rich. “Maybe you've been asking the wrong people.” 

He holds your gaze and you feel warmth rush through your body. You swear that smile is going to be the death of you. 

You don't have too long to dwell on it before two shadows loom over the pair of you, water balloons in hand, devilish grins in place. Daichi voices your thoughts exactly. “Ah crap.”

You don't get home until well after dark, having spent the evening at the Sawamura's, playing games in front of the television and sharing your precious bag of junk food, before helping Daichi clean the house up once the twins had gone to bed so his mother wouldn't have to deal with it when she got home in the early hours. 

You drop heavily onto your mattress, more than content to fall asleep where you are until you hear a notification come through on your phone. You feel around for where you'd dropped it, bringing it up to your face to see a friend request on your private page. You raise your eyebrows at the familiar face, “Well, well.” 

You click on the profile, eagerly skimming through the photos, your mouth falling open as you scroll page after page of Daichi's gym-based thirst traps, voice disbelieving. “Who would have thought?”

You get to one that makes your mouth dry. Taken in the mirror, he's stood, shirtless, with one hand on the back of his neck, bicep bulging, as his jeans hang low enough on his hips that you can see the little treasure trail of hair disappearing in to his boxers. You let out a low whistle, “Damn, Daichi.”

You press the phone to your mouth, considering, tapping a finger against the plastic casing. You shake your head, telling yourself that it would absolutely be a bad idea to actively pleasure yourself to his photos without his knowledge. You look at the picture again and your resolve wavers. You sigh, backing out of the app and locking your phone, pushing it out of your immediate reach as you try to cling to some measure of respectability. 

You've barely stepped outside the front door and you can already hear the cacophony of activity coming from the Sawamura household. You smile to yourself as you hook your foot awkwardly around the base of the door and yank hard to close it behind you, your hands full as you answer the call for help. 

You cross the road balancing a pile of clothes over one arm, a kitbag on the other and make up bag in hand, as you do a mental checklist to make sure you haven't forgotten anything. You kick their front door twice, smiling wide, voice chipper, as a very flustered looking Mrs Sawamura swings the door open to greet you. “I'm here!”

Her relief at the sight of you is obvious, she takes your cheeks in her hands, squeezing your face affectionately. “What would we do without you?”

You move into the house to find chaos everywhere you look, you turn back to where she's still stood at the door, “Where should I set up?”

After everyone, including the dog, had been chased out of the living room you drop your things down onto the sofa to sort through them, ready to get to work. Daichi brings you a hot drink, courtesy of his mother, as he eyes the mountain of things that seem to pour out of your relatively small kitbag while you hang up a variety of shirts and blouses, and even a couple of dresses over the top of the door to save them from creasing.

You dig through the remaining items of clothing, pulling out a handful of your father's never worn silk ties and handing them to Daichi, your voice distracted. “For you and your dad.” You pull out a collection of shawls in varying materials and colours, draping them over his arm. “For your mother.” 

Daichi chuckles as you separate out a pile of brushes, combs and hair products, before opening up your make up bag and checking you hadn't left anything at home. “You're not messing around today, huh?” 

You glance up at him from your counting, laughing, “Well it is a wedding.” You dig through the bottom of your bag, feeling for any rogue hair pins. “And anyway, it's not every day you all get to do something together as a whole family,” You meet his eye, smiling fondly, “I want to do whatever I can to make it run smoother, you guys deserve it.” You look down at your work station and nod, satisfied, before turning back to Daichi. “Can you grab me a stool and then tell your mother I'm ready whenever she is?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it again, choosing to just do as he's told with an accepting nod. “Yes, ma'am.”

It takes a couple of hours but everyone manages to get sorted with time to spare before the minibus is due, more family members trickling in the whole time, the house soon fit to bursting with people as you happily offer up hairspray and last minute touch ups to anyone in need. 

When there's nothing left to do but wait, you sigh, satisfied, repacking all of your bits and bobs so the sofa can be usable again. 

As you're hefting the kit bag onto one arm Daichi appears, looking extremely fine in his best suit. You give him an appraising look, “Very nice, Mr Sawamura, you clean up well.”

He shakes his head, but looks pleased nonetheless. He looks down at the bag on your arm, questioning. “Done already?”

You nod, proud to have played your part. You eye the twins as they run past you, “If they make it to the photos unscathed I'll be amazed.”

Daichi watches them, laughing before returning to meet your eye. There's a moment, a something, that passes between you and you feel your pulse speed up in response, not for the first time either, it felt like this had become a pattern since he'd come home, even if you couldn't put your finger on what exactly it was that felt different. 

You look away first, an embarrassed smile creeping onto your face. “I should probably get out of your way.”

His eyebrows draw together, his voice hardening. “Why?” When you don't respond he continues, “You're coming with us, right?”

Oh. You laugh, waving him off. “Of course not.”

He looks genuinely annoyed, it baffles you. “Why not?”

“Uhh,” Your mind draws a blank under his stern gaze, “I'm not invited? I just came to help out.”

He scoffs, turning away and catching his mother's eye from across the room, his voice loud. “Is she really not invited?”

“Daichi!” You hiss, admonishing him. You don't know what's gotten into him. 

His mother comes over to where you're both stood, you start to stammer out an apology but she talks over you, responding to Daichi. “Of course she is, the whole family is invited.”

Daichi nods once, satisfied, before turning back to you. Your eyes flick between the pair of them, his mother offering you a kind smile before being called away. You swallow down the lump in your throat, what she'd said being slow to sink in. Family, they consider you family. 

You feel your eyes start to get misty as you look up at the ceiling, blinking to clear them, giving a sniff as you do your best not to cry in front of a houseful of people. 

You blink up at a concerned looking Daichi, unsure if you can really accept it. Your mind scrabbling for all the reasons you can't. “But I don't have anything to wear?”

He laughs at that, pointing at the dresses on the door. “Yes, you do.”

You sniff again, loudly. “But it's too late to get ready?”

His smile softens, “You have time.”

“What about the minibus?” You really want to go.

He shrugs, unwilling to let you talk yourself out of it. “We're already overfilled, one more won't hurt.” 

Your voice wavers as you swipe a tear from your eye, laughing. “But look at the state of me.”

He leans down into your line of sight, smiling gently as he brushes a tear from your cheek. “I am.” 

He takes the kitbag from you, grabbing your make up bag from the sofa and takes down the dresses you'd hung up earlier before moving towards the stairs. “Come on, you can use my room to get ready.”

When you finally exit his room you're feeling a lot more stable than when he'd left you in it, the process of getting ready soothing and methodical, leaving you feeling loved, and excited about the reception. When you'd checked yourself in his mirror one last time, you'd taken an extra second to pull out your least favourite shade of lipstick, writing a note in the corner of the mirror before leaving his room - Thank you ❤️

Everyone's already outside bickering about the order to get into the minibus when you make it downstairs. You stop next to Daichi as you watch the twins argue about who'll get to sit in the boot now that you're taking one of their seats, laughing as they play rock, paper, scissors for it. He looks down at you, his eyebrows raising a little. “I'm not the only one who cleans up well.”

You nudge his arm, rolling your eyes, watching as people start to get into the bus, getting imaginative with the seating arrangements. You laugh, your voice teasing. “Good to see you haven't gone full cop on us just yet, it wouldn't be the same without a few petty crimes to liven up the days.”

“For now, at least.” He looks down at you, lopsided smile firmly in place. “You should make the most of it while it lasts.” His eyes drift down your outfit before returning to the minibus. 

You feel your cheeks warm as you fight the urge to fidget with the dress. You decide to change the subject. “So where am I sitting?”

His lips press into a thin line as he fights a smile, “Well, about that...”

You knew you shouldn't have come. If you'd known it would have ended with you sat on Daichi's lap for the entire ride, you never would have agreed, but it was this, or his dad's, so of course you'd chosen this.

You've spent the last mile doing everything in your power to try and ignore how firm his thighs are underneath you as you sit on him side saddle, desperately trying not to touch his crotch for fear you'll get an actual nose bleed in front of his entire family. 

The minibus hits another bump, jarring you, your back rigid with the effort it's taking to stay upright, one hand braced on the headrest of the seat in front. He chuckles from behind you and you swear you can feel it in your stomach. 

He keeps his voice quiet, trying not to draw attention. “Am I that uncomfortable?” You give him a hard stare, not dignifying it with a response and he laughs again. “You could've said no.”

Casual, aim for casual. You force lightness into your tone, aiming for playful as you glance at him. “And miss out on every Torono girl's dream? My friends would never forgive me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Do you always do what your friends want you to do?”

You snort at that, waving off the lecture, you're a little old to be talked to like one of the twins. “Uh huh, whatever you say, dad.”

His knee jerks underneath you, and for a second you almost fall. You give him a 'do you mind?' look, surprised to be met with him staring at you, his eyes intense, his voice low and rumbling, for your ears only. “Not daddy?”

You lips press into a hard line as your eyes go wide. He saw the photo. You feel your body start to burn, unable to think of a single thing to say. You mentally kick yourself, you'd been so eager to see his stupid thirst traps you hadn't even considered what he'd be able to see in return. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out. 

You're unprepared when the minibus hits another bump and you slip further into his lap, you try to reposition yourself but you feel his hand settle onto your hip, keeping you in place. You swallow down your embarrassment and offer a weak chuckle, nothing clever to say. 

You watch his teeth dig into his lower lip for a second before he looks away from you, smiling, his cheeks more than a little pink too. You're not sure why but it makes it so much worse. You spend the rest of the drive in silence, focused only on the way he continues to stroke your hip with his thumb.

The reception is already underway by the time you get there, music loud and upbeat as the sound of excited kids and laughing people floats out into the car park, the twins tearing out of the minibus like greyhounds at a race track. You take a second to straighten your dress as everyone starts to head in before you. You notice Daichi lagging behind the others, looking your way, but before he can say anything the twins make their reappearance, rushing to your side and begging for you come to see the garden with them.

It isn't until late into the evening that their activity starts to wane, the disco finally exhausting the last of their energy before finding a quiet corner seat to curl up in as tiredness gets the better of them. Mrs Sawamura comes over to relieve you from your watch, giving you the opportunity to stretch your legs and enjoy the party for a while without your two little cling-ons following your every move. 

You make your way over to the open bar to get yourself a drink and head out onto the patio for some air and some relative quiet for a little while. The air is refreshingly cool on your skin as you look up at the night sky, hoping the clouds won't spell rain for the happy couple.

“There you are.”

You jump a little at the sound of Daichi's voice. You hadn't been avoiding him, but you also hadn't spoken since the drive over here. You feel yourself start to blush and hope it's too dark to tell. 

You glance sideways at him, smiling awkwardly, before turning your attention back onto the sprawling garden. “I'm just admiring the view, it's pretty, I've never been here before.”

He makes a sound that could be positive or negative, stepping a little closer to you. His voice quiet, “Can we talk?”

You look up at him, concerned something's wrong. Your curiosity peaked. “Sure?”

He takes your hand in his and pulls you after him, moving you both away from the open doors and other guests, to somewhere with a little more privacy. You can't help but smile as he covertly checks there's no one around, before leaning back against the wall and sighing.

When he's slow to speak you move to stand beside him against the wall, not wanting to just stand there staring at him. 

“I'm sorry if I overstepped on the bus.” He says carefully.

You laugh quietly, he sounds so serious. “I was shocked, not offended.” You wave off his apology, “Anyway I probably earned it, just a little.” You concede with a shrug, you have been harassing him for years after all. Fair's fair.

He turns to face you, leaning his shoulder against the wall, smiling. “True.” He moves a little closer, you can feel the heat coming from him. “It's not like I shouted about your “money maker” in front of my friends in a public park or anything like that.” 

You snort a laugh at that, the atmosphere between you returning to normal as he joins you. It feels good. When the laughter peters out, he holds your gaze, seeming thoughtful. You're surprised when he reaches for your hand again, holding it gently. 

He watches you, lop sided grin in place. He's flirting, you realise. That's what's changed. Those moments where you couldn't figure out what felt different, it's him. Your voice is barely a whisper, “Oh.”

He gives you a soft smile, closing the space between you, nodding in confirmation. “Oh.”

His eyes fall to your lips. When you don't move away, he makes his move, his breath tickling your face before he makes contact, his lips pressing against yours. He makes a soft noise and releases your hand, resting his arm on the wall above your shoulder as he leans into you, his tongue slipping into your mouth with no hesitation. 

You bring your hands up to his chest before moving them to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, all thoughts lost to just the sensation of him. His free hand finds it's way to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. 

It takes a while for either of you to pull away, both of you breathless, lost in your own little corner of the world. He huffs a laugh before pressing one more to your lips, his voice a little apologetic, “This wasn't how I thought I'd do this.” 

You stare at his mouth, wanting more, barely hearing him. “No?” 

He shakes his head, kissing you again, gentle and brief. It's not enough. “The plan was to finish college, get a job, find my own place, then do this.” 

He presses his mouth to yours again as you try and order your thoughts. His plan had included finishing college. You look up at him, confused. “How long have you had this plan?”

He thinks for a second, “18 months, maybe? Give or take.” 

Your mouth falls open, “What?”

He laughs as he runs his hand down your back, distracted by the feel of you. He gives a small shrug, “You asked.”

Your mind flounders, you think back on the times you'd seen him in that year and a half, trying to find anything that might have clued you in. There's nothing you can think of, you'd been oblivious. “Then, why now?”

He looks thoughtful for a second, watching his fingers trail along your waist. “I got kind of complacent.” He smiles fondly, “You've been saying the things you say for years, made it feel like I had all the time in the world to do this.” He kisses you again, he chest heaving a sigh as he pulls away from you, smiling contentedly. 

He moves his hand up to your face, pushing a few loose strands of hair out of your eyes. “Then I found out you'd been talking to Suga.” His smile falters, just slightly. “He's my best friend and I'd had no idea.”

You start to explain that there's never been anything between Koushi and you, but he cuts you off, smiling. “I know, I asked him already.”

You blink at him and he laughs, shrugging. “I had to know.” He runs his hand down your arm, his skin warm against yours. “But it made me realise that, if I didn't know about him, that you could be talking to literally anyone and I'd never know.”

You look down to where his hand has reached yours, his touch gentle as he wraps his fingers around yours and squeezes, just a little, as he continues. 

“I decided I better up my game, make my intentions clear,” He leans in a little closer, his body brushing up against yours. “or risk waking up one day to find out you'd met someone who wasn't me.”

He releases your hand, his fingers moving under your jaw to tilt your face up at him, his voice dipping into something deeper, more wanting. “So I decided to stake my claim. Keep you looking only at me, so I can have you all to myself.”

When he kisses you, you feel it all the way down to your toes, your body responding to him on a carnal level. He leans in closer to you, his hand on your waist, his knee pressing between your legs as he pins you against the wall and a moan escapes your throat.

A burst of laughter from the direction of the patio reaches you and he pulls away, breathless. He double checks no-one can see you before sighing, relieved not to have been caught as you run your hands down his solid chest, unable to picture anything but that photo of him shirtless and how bad you want to see the real thing.

A thought occurs to you.

“Hey,” You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself to him, keeping your voice low and intimate. “What did you really think when you saw that photo of me?”

You see his eyes go distant for a second and know he's picturing it, you feel your cheeks warm, pleased that it seems to still be clear in his mind. He leans back a little to get a good look at your face, taking in your teasing grin before brushing his lips against yours. “I don't remember what I thought,” he turns his face a little, his breath soft against your ear, “I remember what I did, though.”  
You feel his obvious erection as he pointedly presses his hips against yours. 

You let out a gasp, “You're saying you...”

He meets your eye again, blushing but still shameless. “I did. Almost immediately.” He shrugs as you start to laugh. “Do you know how long 18 months is? To then see you like that, how could I not?” 

You cover your mouth to muffle your laughter and press your forehead against his shoulder, “Oh Daichi,” you sigh, “we have more in common than I realised.”

He gives you a questioning look before his mouth hangs open, the penny dropping. “You didn't?”

You bite your bottom lip to minimise your embarrassed grin. “Almost immediately.”

He makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl as he crushes his lips against yours, his hips pinning you to the spot as he grinds against you, the idea of you masturbating over him too much for him to stand. When he pauses for breath, he sounds like he's wound too tight, “You're making it really difficult to stop.”

You really don't want him to stop. 

“Are you clean?” 

He blinks at you, puzzled, his voice rough. “What?”

You roll your eyes, impatient. “Come on College Boy, have you been tested? Are you clean?”

He frowns like his offended, his tone defensive. “Of course.”

“Great. Me, too.” You don't have the time for him to be sensitive. “And I'm on the pill.”

You leave the sentence hanging in the air until you see realisation dawn on him and his eyes go wide. You don't miss the way his cock twitches against you. You nod, grinning. “Know anywhere we can go?”

He grabs your hand and pulls you further into the unlit garden, deeper into the shadows, the cloud cover making it too dark to see more than a few steps in front of you at any time, only stopping when you reach a little pavilion overlooking a small water garden.

He leads you up onto the decking before pinning you firmly against him, his lips tantalisingly close to yours, his breaths already heavy. “This'll do.” His voice is practically vibrating with anticipation, you love what this is doing to him.

He startles a little as your hand presses firmly against his erection, dropping your shoulder as you rub him through his trousers, he feels thick under your touch. You smile up at him as his hands brush your waist, “Is this where you ask me to call you daddy?”

His fingertips bite into your waist for a second before he sighs out something close to a laugh. “Better not, it's going to be hard enough staying quiet as it is.”

You can't tell if that's an admission or a promise.

He's on you before you can put too much thought into it, his hands going straight for your backside as he pulls you against him, his lips crushing against yours as all restraint is abandoned. 

He backs you up against the railing, moving from your lips to your neck as he runs a hand over your breast, leaving your skin tingling, even through the material of your dress.

You reach for his belt, starting to loosen it before his hand covers yours, stopping you. He looks at you closely, his gaze piercing. “You're sure?”

The way he emphasises the word 'sure' gives you goosebumps and you nod, but he continues, his eyes roaming your face and body. “Because once I've had you, you're mine, there's no going back.”

There's something in the richness of his voice that makes your body ache in response, his intensity electrifying. 

You wrap your hand around his tie, pulling him down to eye level, your voice clear. “Fuck me, Daichi.”

He releases your hand and undoes the belt himself, his lips exploring your neck and chest as he undoes his trousers. You bend your arms behind your back and undo your dress' zip enough that he can pull it from your shoulders, exposing your breasts. He eyes you hungrily before taking you in hand, squeezing you firmly before leaning down to draw your nipple between his teeth, licking and sucking at your exposed skin as you pant into his ear.

You reach down and hike the skirt of your dress up, past your thighs, as he takes the opportunity to slide a hand between your legs and his press the tips of his fingers against your sex, the thin material covering you already damp to the touch.

You feel his teeth bite into your chest before he brings his mouth back to yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth as his fingers slip into your underwear, dipping into you smoothly.

You audibly gasp and he smothers the sound with his mouth, his patience shattering as he yanks your underwear down your thighs roughly, grunting as you lift your leg to help, stepping one foot out of them clumsily, eager for more of him.

He hooks one arm under your knee, pulling it high as he pulls out his solid girth with the other. He spits into his palm, rubbing the saliva along his shaft before pressing the tip to your opening. 

He watches as he eases into you and you shudder, your breath hitching as he pushes in, one inch at a time, your hands grasping at his suit as you wish you could feel his skin against yours. 

When he's buried himself as far as he can he pauses, his breath catching. “Shit, you feel good.” 

He starts to fuck you, long, slow, purposeful thrusts, finding his rhythm as you bury your face into his neck and try to stay quiet, the railing digging achingly into your back under the sheer pressure of him. 

You turn your face upwards, meeting his lips with your own, moaning softly as the pleasure starts to pool. You catch his lip between your teeth and bite, softly, but it still takes him by surprise, the lack of grip on his dress shoes becoming an issue as his hips buck unexpectedly. 

You let out a yelp as he slips a little, jarring you both as you try not to fall. You cover your mouth to smother the sound of your laughter against his chest. You can't get caught now. You look up at him apologetically and smile, your voice a whisper. “Sorry.” 

Standing on one leg suddenly feels a little too precarious. He presses his lips to yours, pulling out of you reluctantly, his hand running down the leg your standing on before his fingertips dig into the back of your thigh. You stop kissing him long enough to wrap your arms around his neck and brace yourself, letting him lift you like you weigh nothing and you wonder how strong he really is.

He moves over to the bench, sitting down smoothly, placing you down carefully so you're straddling his lap. You kneel up and cup his face between your hands, kissing him deeply, as his hands run up the back of your bare thighs, one moving to your hip, the other wrapping around and underneath you, angling his cock just right for you to lower yourself onto.

The thickness of him is all consuming in this position, you pant against his open mouth as he watches you with hooded eyes, his hands pulling your hips slowly down onto him as he fills you to breaking point. 

He watches you closely, pleased, your bare chest heaving in the night air as your body adjusts to him. His voice a deep rumble. “Ready?”

You wet your lips as you remind yourself to be quiet, you nod, your hands coming to rest on his solid chest as he thrusts up into you, his strokes short but effective as he buries himself into you as deep as he can with every one.

Your body relaxes around his girth, desperately in want of him as pleasure creeps through you, the heady need for more overwhelming your senses. You rock your body to meet him, forcing him to quicken his pace. He let's out a moan of his own and you smile, the sound of him being everything you could have wanted.

You feel pleasure start to pool low in your belly, your body humming with sensation. You need more. You close your eyes, concentrating, and dig your fingers in to his chest, “Harder, Daichi.”

He growls as he slides lower on the bench, leaving him slouching, your knees barely on the wooden seat anymore, and you feel his arms wrap around your body as he bear hugs you, pinning your elbows to your sides, freeing himself to fuck you like you asked.

He thrusts, hard. You have to bite down on your lip to keep from crying out as he picks up speed, using the strength in his legs to pound into you mercilessly as you can do nothing but take it. 

He tips his head back, teeth gritted, grunting with effort, as he watches your tits bounce as you try to quiet the needy sounds of pleasure that are pouring from you. There's a catch in your breath, a gasp, followed by a throaty whine that pushes him past his limit as your body clamps down around him, your thighs writhing against his as he spills his seed into you, losing all awareness as he finally gets what he's wanted for so long.

He loosens his hold on you and you lean forward, capturing his face in your hands as you kiss his lips again and again, as the last of your orgasm dissipates. You press your forehead against his, breathing hard, a satisfied smile on your face. “You did good.”

He chuckles between heavy breaths, “I could do better.”

You pull up your dress, covering your breasts, and start to climb off him, giggling as you balance unsteadily in your heels, trying to step back into the underwear still hanging from one of your ankles, when a cacophony of beeping horns comes from the car park and you realise the party must be over and the guests are starting to leave.

Reality comes rushing back as you remember where you are, and who you came with. “Daichi!”, your voice loud in the quiet garden, “Your family!”

He shushes you, laughing. “They left earlier, that's what I was coming out to tell you before..” he gestures between the two of you. He smiles, a little guiltily, “I told them not to worry, I'd get you home safely.”

You physically sag with relief, horrified that you let yourself get so carried away without a second thought. You look at Daichi, eyes narrowing. He might be a bad influence on you. 

He finishes doing up his belt before coming over to you, zipping up the back of your dress and helping you straighten it, before you turn and fix his dishevelled tie for him. 

When you're done, he looks down at you and smiles. “Let's go home.”

There's something about his tone that raises a question, “Home?”

“I told you,” he says, smile growing. “you're mine now. I want you wherever I am.” He leans in towards you, his lips pressing against yours once, firmly. “Including my bed. Preferably as soon as possible.”

You could get used to this side of him. “I'm ready when you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you if you made it all the way through this! 
> 
> For anyone who's interested with how future plans are coming -
> 
> I've got 3 part two's and 2 part three's planned,  
> I have outlines for 1 coach and 7(ish) boys,  
> Vague ideas for 5 more.
> 
> But absolutely NO idea what to do with 3 of them. Ushijima, Hinata and Kageyama 😭


	16. Konbini Blues - Ukai Keishin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ukai turns out to have a few surprises up his sleeve.
> 
> 11,000 word slow burn because apparently I have no idea what I'm doing anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! The comments on the Daichi chapter were so nice that I have been PARALYSED by anxiety, absolutely convinced I'll never be able to write anything good ever again lol. I think it probably shows in this chapter, 11k words is so long! I just really didn't want to risk Ukai coming off like some kind of predator so we had to slooooow burn it.

You slam the door as you storm out of the house and into the dusky light of the evening, pausing only to kick out frustratedly at the steel bin next to the front gate as you pass, leaving the screaming household behind you.

You thrust your hands deep into your jacket pockets, the thin material useless for keeping in any kind of body heat, leaving you wishing you'd thought to grab something warmer on the way out, the skin on your bare legs prickling as the chill sets in. 

You wander the still unfamiliar streets until you come to a convenience store, the first place open to business you've seen since leaving the house. You sigh, you miss the city. Your family moved to Torono weeks ago and you still can't get over just how little there is to do here.

You pull out the meagre amount of coins in your pocket and count them out, you should have enough to get something and, even if it's just five minutes out of the cold, something is always better than nothing. 

You step through the shop door, sparing only a passing glance at the man behind the counter, hunched over a book and smoking a cigarette, your eyes flick briefly to his dyed blonde hair and piercings, seemingly rarities in these parts.

You make your way over to the magazine section, picking ones up at random and flicking through them absently, only really looking at the adverts, as you will the blood back into your extremities, being sure to move further down the aisle every so often so it looks like you're still browsing. 

It doesn't work for long however, a bored voice drifting over to you from his place at the counter, not even bothering to look up at you. “This ain't a library kid, buy it or leave.”

You swear under your breath, stupid small towns, if you were still at home you could've just blended in with the crowd and been left alone as long as you'd wanted. You huff an exaggerated sigh, dropping the magazine back onto a shelf, heedless whether it's the right place or not, before starting to wander the aisles, buying a few more minutes while you look for something within your price range. 

You feel the guy start to become annoyed without needing to look his way, his eyes on you as you round the end of one aisle and double back into another, stopping at the drinks fridge and picking out the cheapest canned drink you can see before heading over to the counter, unfazed. He could be as annoyed as he wanted, you hadn't done anything wrong so he couldn't do anything about it.

He puts his hand out for the money before you've even placed the drink down on the counter. That's fine by you, you dump your handful of coins into his open hand and walk away without a word, if he wanted to be rude then two could play at that game. 

You push through the door and back out into the night, pausing as you look both ways along the street, unsure of where to go, regretting the cold drink as the chill creeps back into you. You sigh, there's nothing to be done about it now. 

An overturned milk crate in front of the store catches your eye, it's as good a place as any. You drop down onto it, opening the drink and taking a sip of the sweet liquid, looking blankly up at the night sky. You really don't want to go back yet.

A little while passes and the man leans out of the front door, looking your way, cigarette hanging from his lower lip, frowning. “Hey kid, don't you have anything better you could be doing?” 

You turn towards him before glancing around you, behaving like you might actually see something before rolling your eyes back around to meet his, your tone flat. “Doesn't look like it.” 

He clicks his tongue and waves a hand at you as he heads back into the store, smoke billowing lazily from his mouth as he exhales. “Go home. It's late, you'll catch a cold.”

The lights inside the store are turned off long before you take his advice.

The days in Torono are long, and boring, the night's even more so. Days and weeks become pretty meaningless this far out in the sticks, where the only thing that ever seems to change is the weather. 

You've started to get more of a feel for the area, for better or worse. It didn't take long to figure out there were little to no redeeming factors of life here, the highschoolers were annoying, the old people rude and everybody else was busy. You'd tried getting a job but hadn't had any luck, leaving you pretty aimless during the days. 

You kick at the loose stones on the path as you head towards the local store, a handful of notes and a shopping list in your pocket, on an errand to pick up food for the rest of the week. You squint up at the sky, the sun is bright but the days are still cool, you wonder if it needs to be hot for you to get a tan. 

You push your way through the door and glance towards the counter, the grumpy shopkeeper fixed in his usual spot, reading. Sometimes there was an older lady instead, she was pretty nice but you didn't see much of her. A lot of the local business' were family owned and run this way, job creation not a high priority in these parts, an extra nail in the coffin for outsiders like you. 

You glance around the doorway before wandering over to the counter, knocking on it twice to get his attention. He sucks languidly on his cigarette before stubbing it out, when he speaks he does so without looking up at you. “What do you want, kid?”

“A basket.” His eyes swing up to you lazily, an eyebrow cocking as your irritation immediately spikes. You pull out the wad of money and wave it at him, he doesn't have to speak for you to know what he's thinking, you're aware you haven't bought more than one item at a time since you started coming in here. 

He heaves a deep sigh before standing up, taking a second to look down at you before moving out into whatever rooms they had in the back. Your eyes run down his body as he goes, pausing to frown at the sandals he's wearing with his knock-off tracksuit, before glancing away as he quickly reappears, basket in hand. “There ya go, kid.”

“I'm not a kid.” Your tone is snappier than you'd meant it to be, but it was out now so there we are. 

He settles back into his seat, unconcerned. “Whatever you say.” 

You roll your eyes as you grab the basket, pulling the shopping list out as you make your way down the first aisle. 

You're halfway done when a tall blond man enters the shop. You're surprised at the enthusiastic greeting he gets from the shopkeeper as he becomes more animated than you've seen him before. It takes you a minute to realise you're staring.

You get to the till just as the mystery man is saying his goodbye's. You don't miss the way his eyes graze over you before meeting your eye as he apologises for being in your way. You smile at him as he leaves, he's kind of cute after all.

When you turn back to the counter, your things are already being rung up as the shopkeeper tuts disapprovingly at the packets of instant noodles and other convenience meals piled high in your basket. He gestures with his chin at the shopping, “This all for you?”

You look at the mountain of food between you both, feeling like the answer should be obvious. “No.”

“Where's all the fresh stuff?” he asks as he shakes out a bag.

“Not on the list.” You hate how nosey everyone is around here, once upon a time no one would've cared what you were buying. 

He finally meets your eye, his face contemplative, before he returns to packing your shopping up, dismissing whatever it was that he'd thought about saying. Good, you think, he can keep his opinions. Even if you were just a tiny bit curious.

You hand the cash over without bothering to check it, you'd kept track of the cost as you went, you already know it's the right amount.

He counts it out lazily as you look around, his eyebrow lifting slightly when it comes out almost even, while your eye falls onto a collection box on the counter with a large black crow painted onto it. “What's that for?”

He looks at where you're pointing as he puts the money into the till. “Fundraising for the highschool volleyball team.”

That seems weirdly specific. You ask, curious, “They any good?”

He smiles to himself. It catches your eye, it's a pretty smile. “They are. But I'm biased.” He hands you your shopping bags before leaving your change on the counter. “Coaches tend to be.” 

You watch, frowning, as he pulls out a cigarette and puts it to his lips, and you try to imagine him coaching sports. You look at his clothes and concede a little, at least the tracksuit made sense now. You brush the coins into your hand before tipping them into the collection box, it wasn't much but still, they probably needed all the help they could get. 

He raises his eyebrows, his tone surprised. “Thanks, kid.”

You tamp down your annoyance as you heave the shopping bags towards the door. “No problem, old man.”

You're sunning yourself in the back garden, making the most of the first truly hot afternoon of the year, when you hear a crash come from inside the house. You turn towards the sound, cringing when the inevitable shouting begins. You're up and out of the back gate before anyone even realises you were there.

Your feet unconsciously follow the most familiar path and you find yourself outside the store front, overly warm and thirsty as hell, frustrated that you don't have any money on you. You wonder if maybe Ukai would let you have a drink if you promised to pay for it later, he's been pretty decent to you recently. 

You push through the door, flinching as you hear a loud clattering followed by a string of swear words that would impress even the hardiest of criminals. You take a few tentative steps towards the till, standing on your toes to lean over the counter, looking down at the crouching, furious shopkeeper, surrounded by a mass of runaway cans. “Bad time?” 

He glares up at you, it's pretty ineffective, you'd figured out he was all bark and no bite a while ago now. It affords you a better look at him though, the bright pink cast on his hand catching your interest. He sees you spot it, “Not a word, kid.” 

You play hurt, your tone innocent. “Why not? Pink suits you.” The expression slips off your face as you get the annoyed reaction you'd wanted, falling into something more comfortably you, your voice goading. “What happened? You didn't have a fall did you? I hear you've got to watch out for those at your age.”

He makes an annoyed sound before standing up, brushing the hair out of his eyes, you don't think you've ever seen it out of his hairband before, it's longer than you'd thought it would be. His cheeks also look a little pink, you wonder if the hand is painful. His tone, however, is the same as ever. “Did you need something?”

You have the decency to look at least mildly apologetic as you remember that you've got no money. You give him a little half smile, sounding contrite. “Came to ask for a favour, actually.” 

You don't miss the dismissive snort he gives you as he starts to pick the cans up one by one while you explain your need drink/no cash predicament. He keeps his tone neutral. “And why would I do that?” 

He lets out an old man groan as he leans down for another, you choose not to point it out. “Because three hands are better than one?” He pauses briefly to give you a doubtful glance. “I'll help with the things you need two hands for, you can pay me in hydration.” It's a fair deal you think. It also buys you more time out of the house. 

He looks between you and the scattered cans, giving a resigned sigh. “Fine.”

You'd only meant to stay long enough to get a drink or two out of it but, before you realised it, hours had passed and now you were still here at closing time. It turns out he's pretty useless with only one hand, from restocking to bagging groceries, he struggled with all of it.

At least he could still dust, you thought blandly as you watched him clean from your seat at the table, lost in his own world, as you scoff down the free bun he'd given you while it was still warm. 

You brush the crumbs from your hands before sucking the residual sauce from your thumb, your mouth still full as you grab your jacket from the back of the chair and head for the door so he can lock up. “I'll come back tomorrow, help you set up if you want?”

The day hadn't been bad, you could do it again with little bother. Maybe he could even put in a good word for you somewhere and help you get a part time job if you were helpful enough. You glance at him sideways as you zip up your jacket, he wasn't exactly bad company either. You could think of worse ways to spend your day.

He stops his humming and frowns at you. “You don't have a job? School?”

You scoff as you check your hair in the window's reflection before meeting his eye. “I don't know if you've noticed man, but this is kind of an insular place.” You gesture vaguely around you, your voice taking on a bitter undertone. “Not many jobs to begin with, let alone for some meiwaku brat from the newest problem family who didn't even finish highschool.” 

He raises an eyebrow and you resist the urge to turn away, choosing to jut out your chin instead. You know what you are. He can think what he wants, it doesn't bother you any. He gives you an appraising look. “How old are you?”

“Old enough.” You look away to mask your cringe, you don't know why you keep snapping at him. He sighs and it bothers you. “Nineteen.” 

He hums thoughtfully, “Too young for bar work then.”

You nod, melancholy but determined. “Once I turn twenty it'll be different, I'll find a job and none of you will ever see me again.” You smile at him, expecting him to say 'good'.

He gives you a long look before pulling the door open for you as you step through it. “5am.” You turn back to look at him, questioning. “We start at 5am. See you in the morning.” 

He closes the door in your face as the nightmare of what he said sinks in. 

You turn up, on time, then have to bang on the door for fifteen minutes before he finally lets you in. Apparently he actually starts at 6am, but he assumed you'd be late, if you turned up at all, so he lied. Now you're both tired and grumpy and it's entirely his fault and you swear if you hear him blow the hair out of his eyes one more time you're going to snap.

You hear the telltale puff of air from across the shop and have to consciously stop yourself from grinding your teeth. You put down the bottles of milk, carefully, resisting the urge to throw them at him, before moving towards the counter. 

You slip past where he's perched on his stool, looking for where you'd seen the hairband yesterday. “Ah-ha.” You snatch it up before he can ask what you're doing and place the band between your teeth, turning to him and pulling his head back towards you, holding him firmly in place as he tries to get away, before scraping your fingers through his hair, muttering about how useless he is, as you slide the band into place. 

You move in front of him to check if it looks right, giving a satisfied nod at your work. “There. Now stop twitching.” It takes you a second to realise how close you are, he's practically cross-eyed as he stares at you open mouthed, his face a mask of wordless horror. 

“Oh.” You take a step back, suddenly self conscious. You watch as his good hand reaches up to touch the band, but you can't tell what he's thinking. “Does it feel alright?”

He nods absently, “Yeah.” You smile in response, pleased. Then almost as an after thought he adds. “Thanks, kid.”

Your smile falters a little, before you forcibly brighten it, shrugging carelessly before heading back to the milk. “It was better than the alternative.” Violence won't get you that reference, after all.

Around lunch time you run out of things to do, you head over to ask if there's anything else he needs, just to find him counting out money. You decide to wait until he's done, picking idly at the rubber seal on the counter as you do.

He slides a small pile of notes over to you and you glance up at him, surprised. “Two days pay.” He taps his finger on the pile. “This cast comes off in six weeks, I'll pay you every morning you work between now and then.” 

You blink at him, disbelieving, before reaching out to take it. You've never actually earned any money before, it's your first real pay. Your fingers twitch as reality sinks in and you draw your hand away before you touch it, laughing uncomfortably. It's cash, there's no point taking it back home, there's nowhere you could keep it anyway. “Nah, it's all good.” You say, feigning disinterest. You glance around, your stomach audibly grumbling. “I'll take lunch if you're offering though.”

He frowns at you, you're grateful when he doesn't ask. “It's your wage, buy what you want with it.” He leans below the counter, digging out an empty envelope, placing the money inside it before tucking it away again. “You can collect it whenever you're ready.”

You shift uncomfortably. He's kind. You pick a little more at the rubber seal, your voice small. “Could I eat here?”

He drums his fingers thoughtfully on the counter, watching you refuse to meet his eye, before shrugging one shoulder and taking his place back on the stool. “It's what the table's for, ain't it?”

You ask for one of the hot buns before going to get yourself a drink, pausing at the magazines briefly before deciding to take one of those, too. You sit down at the table and look at the things in front of you, a little bit of pride bubbling up in your chest. You rip open the steaming bun, smiling. “Itadakimasu!”

The bun and drink are long finished by the time Ukai's friend makes an appearance, interrupting the comfortable silence you had been sharing as you both read quietly. You stare down at the magazine as you pretend you're not eavesdropping. 

There's a lull in their conversation when Ukai's mother turns up to watch the store during practice, his friend taking the opportunity to sidle over to where you're sat, his face bright in greeting. You glance up at him as he approaches you. “You must be the new girl?” 

His eyes slide down to your legs when he thinks you won't notice, you remember him doing that the first time you saw him too, you guess he likes the way you dress. The summer time was all about short skirts and strappy tops, after all. Didn't hurt they were cheap, too. 

“I guess I must be.” You turn your body slightly towards his as you cross your legs, bouncing one foot lazily as you rest your chin on your hand, looking up at him. “And you're the mystery man who cheers up grouchy shopkeepers.” 

The corner of his mouth twitches up, “Mystery man? I like that.” 

You smile blandly, you bet he does. 

“Takinoue.” You both turn at the sound of Ukai's voice, he doesn't look at you. “Ready?”

Takinoue nods before glancing down at you, “See you around, new girl.”

The smile you'd given him slips off your face as they leave. You sigh, returning to your magazine, determined to finish it before you leave for home.

You're cleaning up your mess when Ukai's mother makes a series of concerned noises, drawing your attention. You wander over to the till, your eyes dwelling on the notebook in her hand, 'STATS' written on the cover, as she laments about her son needing it for practice. 

You jump at the chance, curiosity leading you. “I can take it to him.” 

The gym turns out to be surprisingly easy to locate, the doors open to let the air in, the squeaking of shoes and the sounds of the ball pretty unmistakeable even to you. You hover near one of the doors, peaking inside to get a better look.

They seem to be in the middle of a practice match, with a small number of boys either side of the net. You watch, captivated, the fast paced action not what you'd expected from a bunch of kids. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little impressed.

You're about to step into the gym when a shout goes up and you have to pause as the ball flies out of the door and past you, an involuntary yelp escaping you as an orange haired boy springs out of the door after it, missing a collision with you by inches. 

“S-sorry!” His voice sounds panicked as he turns back to you, ball in hand. 

You laugh, relieved to still be in one piece before waving him off. “It's fine. That was a nice catch, you're quick.”

He blushes furiously, his eyes looking skyward as he laughs awkwardly, muttering a small thanks. He goes to head back inside but you catch him by the arm, his eyes going wide at the contact. “I'm looking for Ukai?”

“Coach?” His voice pitching high with surprise. When you nod he tells you to follow him, leading you inside as the gym goes almost silent. You hadn't expected to draw quite so much attention, you try not to let your discomfort show. 

The boy points you towards the corner where the scores are being kept by a pretty blonde girl, Ukai stood near her, deep in conversation with Takinoue. You thank him with a smile before he jogs back over to his team just to be greeted with boyish teasing about 'the girl' he brought back with him. He's smaller than all of them but most are calling him senpai so you guess he's older than he looks.

Ukai spots you before you get to him, his eyebrows furrowing. He does not look happy to see you. You steel yourself against his annoyance, you're used to his grumpiness by now. You hold out the notepad, his eyes narrowing as he looks at it. “Hey don't shoot the messenger.” You say defensively. “I was asked, so I came.” It's only a little white lie. 

He takes it from you with a distracted nod before his eyes drift over you, taking in your appearance and the gym full of, now distracted, boys notably not practicing behind you. He claps his hands to get their attention, telling them to get on with the match before turning back to you. You can see the lecture coming before he even opens his mouth. 

You listen patiently as he talks about being on school property, appropriate attire, what if you got caught, what if you got hurt, the gym's dangerous if you're not paying attention. You spend the time sharing glances with an amused Takinoue behind him as the pretty blonde repeatedly opens her mouth like she wants to interject, before closing it again, looking at you apologetically. 

You put an amiable smile on your face as he finally stops talking. You let the silence hang for a second before responding. “Your roots are showing.” 

It's not true, but when his hand automatically rises to his hairline it feels like a victory. You turn on your heel, heading for the exit, calling back at him over your shoulder, “It's pronounced 'thank you', by the way.” 

On your way out the door you make eye contact with the orange haired boy, giving him a smile and a wink as you exit, laughing to yourself as you hear an eruption of cheering and teasing behind you before an annoyed Ukai cuts them off with his shouting.

The weeks go by at a comfortable pace. It's nice to have something to do with your time and the company is... nice. Your eyes drift over to the reading shopkeeper for the hundredth time today and you can't help but sigh. 

You're sat at the table with a magazine, wasting time after your work was done. He didn't seem to mind the extra time you spent there, or if he did, he hadn't said anything. You pull your eyes away from him, glancing mindlessly around the shop as a small group of highschool boys make their way to the counter, their lunches in hand. 

You watch them pay for their things and leave before speaking up. “You get a lot of cute guys in here, you know?”

He doesn't look up from his reading, his voice disinterested. “I can't say I've noticed.” 

You hum, disappointed. “It's just a shame they're all so young.”

He snorts as he turns the page, his voice amused. “Aren't you still a teenager?” 

“Barely.” You mutter, annoyed at the comparison. “Anyway,” you say with an abundance of confidence. “I like them older.” 

His eyes flick up to yours unexpectedly. You hold his gaze as your statement hangs in the air between you, only looking away as the door swings open and Takinoue appears, his offer to watch the store for today's practice having been accepted this morning. You look back at Ukai, a little surprised to find him still looking your way, your voice lilting like you're sharing a private joke.“Speak of the devil.” 

“What's this then?” Takinoue's cheerful voice fills the silent store, “I thought I felt my ears burning. All good things I hope?”

You give him the same indulgent smile you always do, before he turns to Ukai to talk about their drinking plans for later that night.

Your expression fixes in place as you look beyond him, catching sight of a couple of familiar jackets lingering across the road. You stand up without a word and head out of the store to where they are.

Ukai watches you as you leave, the abruptness of it unusual. He only half listens to Takinoue's chatter as he watches you interact with the group of boys over the road, they're not kids he recognises but it's clear you know them well enough. 

One of them puts his arm around you before you push him away, he's concerned until he sees that you seem to be laughing. A boyfriend, maybe? 

“Ukai?”

Ukai snaps his attention back to his friend, mumbling an apology before moving out of the way so Takinoue can take the stool while he heads out the back to gather his things.

When he returns you're back in the store, frowning out the window, the boys no longer in sight. He wants to ask if everything's alright. He doesn't. “Well, I'm off.”

He watches as you nod distractedly before turning back to him. “I'm gonna stay a little longer,” He does his best not to glance at Takinoue, raising an eyebrow in question. You give him a tight smile, “I was meant to mop earlier, it won't take me long to do now.” He goes to tell you not to worry about it but you're already heading out to the back room to get the cleaning supplies. He frowns at the unusual behaviour.

He gives Takinoue one last glance, his voice cagey. “See you both later, then.”

It's only once you've thoroughly mopped every inch of the floor that you decide it's probably safe to leave. You'd expected the worst when you'd seen them outside but, with there being no sign of them since, you decide you were just being paranoid. 

You wheel the mop bucket out the front door and into the side alley behind the vending machines to dump the water down the drain, annoyed with yourself for creating work you didn't need to do. You air out your underarms, irritated that you're actually sweating for this. 

As you turn the corner back towards the front door, you hear a shout ring out from inside. You watch a boy in a green hoodie sprint towards the exit with a familiar box in his hand. You feel anger pulse through you. You knew it. 

Before you can really think it through, you snatch the mop out of the bucket, hefting it like a baseball bat, swinging it with all your strength at the boy's chest as he makes his escape. You hit him, hard. You hear the air rush out of his lungs all at once as he hits the ground with a loud thud. 

You don't waste the opportunity, digging the dank mop head angrily into his chest while he's flat on the floor, your teeth gritted. “Give. It. Back.”

He drops the box as he starts to cough, scrambling away from you, only to be surprised by Takinoue rushing out the door behind him, before struggling to his feet and running away. 

You snatch the abandoned box off the floor. “And don't come back!” You shout after him, still furious that they would do this here.

You only realise you're shaking when Takinoue's steady hand falls onto your shoulder, his voice soothing. “Hey,” he says softly. “It's ok.” 

You come back to your senses as you glance around, embarrassed to realise people had been watching. You hug the box tighter to your chest as Takinoue guides you back into the store, apologising for the disturbance before sending the gawking highschoolers away. 

Ukai's lost in thoughts of drills and plays as the last of the boys trickle in to start their warm up. Their chatter little more than background noise until a couple of the second years turn up, calling for him excitedly. 

“Coach! Coach!”

They draw more attention from the older students, everyone listening intently as they talk about the thief being caught at the store. Ukai listens, frowning, until one of them turns to Hinata laughing. 

“Your girlfriend's scary! She beat the snot out of him.”

Everyone watches Hinata as he turns pink at the comment, stammering out denials as concern sinks low into Ukai's stomach. He shoos the boys away to start their drills before seeking out Takeda. “Sensei!” he calls out to him, “I need a favour.”

He's out of breath by the time he makes it back to the store, anxiety biting at his heels the whole way. He pushes through the door to be greeted by a confused looking Takinoue. “Ukai, you're back already?”

He glances around the store, looking for you, his voice distracted. “What happened?”

Takinoue throws up his hands, exasperated. “Some kid tried to snatch the collection box.” Ukai stares down at the box on the counter as Takinoue explains everything that happened, ending it with a heavy sigh. “She seemed really shaken up, I went to the kitchen to make her a drink but she was gone by the time I got back.” 

His concern is genuine so Ukai tries not to be annoyed that he hadn't kept a closer eye on you as he scrubs a hand over his face, thinking. He didn't have a contact number for you, or know where you live, and he was pretty sure you wouldn't appreciate him just turning up even if he did. He reaches for his cigarette packet, shaking one out before picking up his lighter. It'll be fine, he tells himself.

“She'll be back.” 

If you had anywhere else to go, you wouldn't be here right now. 

You're sat on the overturned milk crate, your arms wrapped around your bare knees to stay warm as the last of the daylight fades away. You rub the sleeve of your jacket across your face before returning to your huddled position, replaying the day's events again and again, agonising over what you should have done differently. 

“Hey kid.”

You don't look up at him, your knuckles turning white as you squeeze yourself tighter. The silence feels like it lasts a lifetime. 

“You hungry?” 

There's a kindness in his voice that lowers your guard, you'd expected him to be annoyed that you'd caused a scene. Your grip eases a little as you sigh, exhausted. You nod, standing slowly as he holds the door open for you. 

You stare at your feet as you make your way inside, a little surprised when he locks the door behind you and heads out the back to the kitchen area. You hover for a second, unsure, before following him.

“It's cold tonight, you want a hot drink-?” His voice falters as he gets a look at your face. You run your tongue self-consciously over your split lip. You hadn't had a chance to look at it before you'd stormed out of the house, you wonder how bad it looks. 

Your feet shift restlessly as he steps in front of you, his hand raised like he might touch you, concern etched into his features as he inspects your face, his voice low, careful. “What happened?”

You shrug carelessly, looking away. “I got into a fight with my brother.” You answer simply. 

Ukai's features harden and you feel yourself get angry at the accusation in his tone. “He hit you?”

You lift your chin, defiant, glaring at him. “I swung first.” Your tone defensive. You'd caused this. Your anger exploding when you'd confronted him about his friend and he'd laughed in your face like it was nothing.

He searches your face, confused. “Why?”

You feel the anger fizzle out, unable to sustain you as something heavier settles into your chest. You swallow down the lump in your throat, your voice quiet. “It's not right what they did.” 

You'd known what they were there to do the second you saw them hanging around the store. You should have said something, but you hadn't, and now everything was a mess. You see realisation settle onto his face and your eyes start to blur, ashamed that he knows people connected to you would try to steal from him. 

“So many people have...” You shake your head, that's not why. “You.. you've put every spare coin into that box since I've been here. It's not right that they'd try to take that from you.” You meet his eye, steeling yourself. “If you don't want me to come back, I'll understand.” Your voice wavers on the last word and you bite down on the inside of your cheek, bracing yourself for the worst. You know what you'd do in his position.

He sighs heavily, turning back to the tea he's brewing, his voice the same as always. “Why would I do that? Did you try to rob me?”

You snap at him, “I'm a dickhead, not a thief.” 

He chuckles fondly at the fact you manage to say that with such pride. He picks up your cup, turning towards you.

“Thank you,” he says genuinely, “for getting the collection box back.” He places the cup on the table in front of you. “But this,” he nods at your face, “is too much. Don't do this again.” 

You think about arguing, but you don't. You feel like shit, you hate him seeing you this way. You slump down into the seat, your cold hands wrapping around the warm cup. He takes the seat opposite you, his own drink in hand, before placing it on the table and reaching for his cigarettes. 

He lights one, taking a long inhale as he watches you, his face thoughtful. “That temper is a bad habit of yours, you know.”

You give him a flat look, your voice unimpressed. “Talk to me when you quit smoking.” You feel a smile pull at your lips as he actually laughs. You're so glad he doesn't hate you.

After you've both eaten, he glances at the time before asking what you're going to do now, you know he's meant to be out with Takinoue tonight. You shrug, unsure. You don't want to go back yet with everyone mad at you, but you don't have anywhere else to go.

You're shocked when he offers you the use of his apartment upstairs, he's going to be out after all and, if he's being honest, he's reluctant to send you back to that house right now. After today, the fact he trusts you to be alone with his things means a lot to you. You nod and he leads you upstairs, the place smells of him, like deodorant and stale smoke. You don't hate it. 

You look around the living area, curious. “You don't have a games console or anything?” He huffs a laugh, you guess not. He does have cable though and that's better than nothing. 

He heads into his bedroom to get changed and you notice a cooler next to the arm chair, he's really living that bachelor lifestyle. You call out to him, “Can I have a beer?” 

He reappears in the doorway as his shirt falls into place, you catch a glimpse of his bare stomach as he does. You look away, hoping it didn't show on your face. He replies, his voice distracted as he checks his pockets. “You're too young to drink.”

You laugh, trying not to get irritated. You're not a child. “You're telling me that you were twenty before you started drinking?”

He pauses, thinking. “One.” he concedes, meeting your eye. “No more than that, you're not getting drunk on my dime.”

You roll your eyes to hide how pleased you are. “Yeah, yeah, you got it gramps.” 

You watch him pick up his wallet, you kind of wish he didn't have to go. A thought occurs to you, “I'll make sure I'm gone before you're back, it'd be kind of awkward otherwise if you brought somebody home with you.” 

He snorts, “Not likely, but thanks for the thought.” You glance at him sideways, looking him over curiously. Why not? It's not like he couldn't. 

Once he leaves, you find yourself just sitting on his sofa in the quiet. You look around you, surrounded by Ukai's things, and can't help but think he has a good life. It's kind of comforting to know that not everyone hates it here, maybe there was a chance for you to like it too.

You take off your jacket and head to the bathroom, pausing only briefly to peak into his bedroom. You resist the urge to snoop, mostly, he offered you his trust and you don't want to spoil that already. You smile when you see his bed is unmade and there are clothes everywhere, for all his old man grumblings, he still seems to be living like a teenager.

When you get back to the sofa, you turn on the TV, putting on a game show before reaching for the cooler and taking out a beer. You open it and take a sip, your nose wrinkling at the taste, does he really like this stuff? You drink it anyway, it leaves you warm but nothing else, you still prefer spirits but you guess it's not that bad once you get used to it. 

You feel the stress start to seep out of you, your body feeling heavy, but in a good way. You lay down on the sofa, grabbing one of the cushions and hugging it to your chest. It's comfy, and quiet, you feel yourself relax as you turn onto your side, watching the TV. You hitch a leg over your cushion, squeezing it to your body as tiredness starts to creep in.

Hours later a stumbling Ukai freezes in the doorway when he spots you there on the sofa, asleep. He'd almost forgotten that he'd left you here at all. 

He makes his way over carefully, crouching next to you so he can wake you gently, but he pauses when he notices how peaceful you look. It's a first, he thinks. His eyes travel over your arms and legs, taking in the scattering of fresh bruises on your skin, bruises that weren't there this morning. 

He sighs heavily, shaking his head, his voice gentle. “What am I going to do with you, eh?” He brings up his hand, brushing your hair out of your face as he smiles at you fondly. 

He stills, mid-motion. His fingers twitching slightly as he pulls his hand away. He stands awkwardly, swaying a little, the drink settling deep in his bones. 

He thinks again about waking you but he can't bring himself to do it, instead grabbing a blanket and covering you over so you won't get cold during the night, it wouldn't do for you to get sick. 

He looks back once when he gets to his bedroom door, he almost says goodnight but he stops himself. He closes the door quietly, eager to sleep off the booze.

When he wakes, you're already gone, the blanket folded neatly on the end of the sofa. He hovers in the doorway for a few seconds before shrugging, he has vague memories of telling you to go out the back way when you were ready to leave, the door locks automatically when closed. He heads to the coffee table to grab his cigarettes, lighting one before dropping himself heavily onto the sofa, his arms outstretched along the back of it, his head aching. He wonders what time it was that you left.

He breathes in deeply, his eyes drifting down to the cushion next to him as he realises he can still smell you there. He tips his head back and closes his eyes, lost in his thoughts as he finishes his cigarette. 

When he finally drags himself downstairs, he pauses in the kitchen to turn the kettle on, before heading out into the store to start the day. He freezes on the boundary line when he sees you leaning against the front door, your back to him, waiting to be let in. 

He makes his way over to the door, unlatching it. You turn to greet him, the tender looking cut on your lip jarringly out of place on your face as you beam a smile at him like nothing had ever been wrong. “Mornin' boss.” 

You move past him and towards the back to grab an apron. He guesses you must have gone home to shower and change, he can smell the shampoo from your still damp hair. He frowns as he relocks the door, his mind feels fuzzy, his chest tight. “Morning.”

Life returns to comfortable mundanity, time gradually ticking down to the long awaited date for Ukai to finally get his cast removed. It's bittersweet, you're glad he's better, but you'll be sad not to be working at the store anymore. It had been kind of fun, while it lasted.

You're lazing on Ukai's sofa, watching a film, as he smokes in his armchair, the silence comfortable, the interactions routine. Your eyes drift over to him as he sips at his beer. You're going to miss this. 

He catches you watching him, his tone suspicious. “What?”

You shake your head, looking back towards the TV. “Just thinking. Friday's the big day.”

He grunts in response and you know he's flexing the fingers of his bad hand, a habit he'd picked up the last couple of weeks as the pain had all but disappeared, leaving him only irritated with the inconvenience of the cast. He takes another swig of beer, his eyes swinging back to you. “So what are you going to do with all your hard won earnings?” 

You raise your eyebrows, you hadn't really thought about it. You hadn't taken anything from the envelope yet, other than whatever Ukai deducted for your lunch every day. You wonder if he's taken money for the other meals he's given you lately, if he hasn't then you should offer, you don't think you've been hungry once in the last few weeks. 

“Spend it, I guess?” You say with a shrug. Whatever you do, you know you can't take it home as it is. “They're opening a new shopping outlet this weekend,” You think aloud, you remember seeing the advertising for the sales, but it's not exactly close. “maybe I'll go there, I'll have to check the buses though.”

He finishes his beer, dropping the empty bottle onto the table before wiping his mouth off with his hand. “I'll drive you.” 

You turn towards him surprised, “Really?”

He nods. “Consider it one last thank you. You've been a lifesaver.”

You feel your chest get warm and fuzzy at the praise, you smile at him when he meets your eye. “You're the best, boss.” 

He gives a shallow nod, returning to his cigarette and letting the silence slip back into place.

You decide to help out Saturday morning, free of charge. You're not really needed, you know, but it only seems fair. His mother appears around 9am, wishing you a happy shopping and handing a list to a complaining Ukai, his plans to wait in the car thwarted. 

You lean around his shoulder, skim reading the list before plucking it from his hand. “I can get them.” You say easily, slipping the list into the envelope with the money. You smile up at him as he blinks down at you. “You can nap all you want, now.”

When you finally make it back to the car, piled up with shopping bags, Ukai is indeed asleep. You knock on the window, laughing as he startles awake. You point at the back of the car, asking him to pop the trunk.

When you've got all the bags carefully packed away you slide into the passenger seat, slipping the belt into place as Ukai scrubs away any lingering tiredness. He glances over at you, and the couple of bags you've left at your feet. “Did you get everything you wanted?”

You shrug, “More or less.” 

He glances in the rearview mirror at the bags you'd separated out for his mother, lined up neatly on the back seat. He nods towards them, “Thanks for that.” 

You look over at him, hopeful. “Does that mean you owe me one?” 

He narrows his eyes at you as he starts the engine, “Why?”

“Can I leave the stuff in the trunk at yours for now?” You smile apologetically, if you take all this home at once, you'll only attract attention you don't want. You see him consider it, before adding quickly. “I've taken out all the incriminating stuff,” You nudge the bags at your feet with your shoe, “there's only clothes and stuff left back there now.” 

He eyes the bags in your footwell curiously and you smile teasingly, “I can show you if you want?”

He looks away and you laugh, pleased with his annoyance. He rolls his eyes and sets the car into motion. “Leave whatever you want, it's fine with me.” 

On the drive back, you feel something like contentment settle over you. You breathe in the air from the open window, listening to Ukai humming along with the radio as he watches the road, one wrist draped over the steering wheel, his experience making him comfortable behind the wheel, his driving style almost lazy.

You close your eyes, a small smile on your face. Today is the first time you've ever been in a car with a man, you realise. Using public transport is so much more common in the city, this hadn't really been a thing before. You think you could get used to it, maybe country life wasn't all bad. 

He offers to drive you to your door but you tell him the shop is fine, you don't want to be a bother. 

He pulls into his parking space and cuts the engine. Neither of you move for a second, the silence feels heavy. It makes you realise that your time at the store really is over.

You gather up your bags, sighing dramatically as you reach for the door, trying to laugh it off. You look back at him and it fades, you're going to miss being around him. 

You look down before glancing back up at him. He watches you carefully. “You know,” you start, your voice embarrassed already, you want him to know though. “I think you might be my best friend.” 

His eyes widen and you're quick to cut him off, you're not dumb. “I know it's not reciprocated so don't worry,” you laugh awkwardly, “you've got a whole life here and it's a really nice one.” You give him a strained smile, being genuine is hard work. “But still, thanks boss.”

Before you can reconsider you lean across the gap between you, pressing a kiss to his cheek, sighing softly at the feel of his stubble under your lips. It's enough, you tell yourself. You pull away and give him a fragile smile before getting out the car and starting the walk home.

Ukai watches the door close behind you, unmoving. It takes all of his restraint not to lift his hand and touch the place you'd kissed him. As your figure disappears around the corner and out of sight, he lets out a heavy sigh, his head tipping back to lean against the headrest, his thoughts loud. His tightens his grip on the wheel, screwing his eyes closed, his voice a harsh whisper. “Damn it.”

You avoid the store for the next two weeks. You think about going a lot, but you're afraid you made things weird, confessed more than you should have, even if it hadn't been everything. 

You're in your room listening to the rain, monsoon season in full swing. You wonder what he's doing now. You check the time, he'll be closing up soon. You roll onto your stomach, burying your face into your pillow. You miss spending time at his. You wonder when doing nothing with him had become your favourite thing to do.

You hear the wind change as the rain clatters loudly against your window. You want to see him.

You hop up from your bed before jogging downstairs. You grab your shoes and jacket and head out of the door without any delays.

You dive in through the entrance and out of the rain, you smile at the familiar sound of his singing drifting through the store and know you've interrupted his cleaning. He turns absently at the sound of the door, his cigarette hanging loosely from his lower lip, his eyes widening at the sight of you.

You wave, awkwardly. “Hey.”

He catches his cigarette before it falls, his eyes not leaving you. “Hey.” He looks you over as you try not to drip water on anything but the welcome mat. “I'll put the kettle on.”

He brings your tea upstairs after telling you to go dry off, directing you towards the bathroom towels. You're drying your hair when he calls out from the living area. “You should change out of your wet clothes.” You hear a rustling before he pushes through the open bathroom door, he's holding your shopping bags from the last time you saw him. “You said these were clothes, right?”

You take the bags from him, smiling. “Thank you.” 

Your fingers brush against his and he pauses, glancing at you before nodding. “I'll just...” He turns away and closes the door behind him. 

You change where you are, your mind wandering once you've stripped down to your underwear, drying your body with a towel that smells like him. Your eyes drift to the sink where you can see a bottle of aftershave. You lift it to your nose, it makes you think of how his stubble had felt against your lips. You feel a familiar ache and put the bottle down, you really should get dressed.

Once you've finished your tea you don't want to leave, and he doesn't ask you to. Instead, you're surprised when he offers you a beer while taking one for himself. You drink it quicker than you should, nerves getting the better of you as the silence starts to stretch you thin. It isn't comfortable like normal, it feels different. It makes you think of static on a blank screen, a silent buzzing that you can't ignore. 

You place the empty bottle down on the table, you can feel his eyes on you, his gaze heavy. You glance towards him and he meets your eye without comment. You wish you knew what he was thinking. 

You shift in your seat, nervous energy pulsing through you. You feel your skirt inadvertently start to rise, fidgeting to pull it back into place. You still when you notice him staring at your exposed thigh. He swallows and turns away, taking a long swig of his beer as your skin feels like it catches on fire.

You saw it, you know you did. You stare at him while he refuses to meet your eye. Maybe.. could he...?

Your heartbeat quickens in your chest as you watch his hand flex mindlessly. You want to touch him, you wonder if he feels the same. 

You can't take this tension anymore, you need to finish what you started. If you leave here tonight without doing it, you're afraid you'll never come back.

You take a steadying breath before standing, stepping towards where he's sat in his armchair. He meets your eye but doesn't move or speak. He waits.

You hold his gaze. You have to swallow before you can find your voice. “So..” 

The word hangs between you both, a tiny little thing carrying the weight of the world on it's shoulders. He looks up at you and the air around him feels different. 

You have to work hard to keep your voice steady, your words clear. “It turns out that maybe I wasn't being totally honest about how I felt.” His eyes drift down your body, he stays wordless but you don't miss how his fingers dig into the arm of the chair. You stare back at him. “And I'm starting to think maybe you haven't been honest, either.”

He starts to lift his beer to his lips as you decide to commit. All or nothing. You bring your fingers to the buttons of your shirt and he freezes to the spot as you undo the first one, the lip of the bottle still an inch away from his mouth. 

He doesn't ask what you're doing, or tell you to stop.

You undo the rest, one by one. His eyes stay fixed on yours, not allowing himself to look as you undress in front of him, his chest rising and falling in jagged breaths. You drop the shirt to the floor before moving your hands down to the zip of your skirt, never looking away from him. You can see the muscles in his neck tensing from where you're stood as you slide it down your legs. 

You kneel in front of him, resting your hands on his knees, every muscle in his body seems to be pulled too tight. You run your hand up his thigh before moving your touch to his arm, your fingertips tracing a path to his wrist before carefully wrapping your fingers around the neck of his bottle, prying it from his grasp before lifting it to your lips, stealing his last mouthful of beer. You place the empty bottle to one side on the floor as you swallow the bitter liquid.

He finally reaches out to touch you. His fingers brushing against your cheek as he runs his thumb over your lips, removing the lingering foam. You still at the contact, you don't think he's ever touched you before, your body aches in response. 

You lay your hand over his, as you turn your face into his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm. He slowly runs his thumb along your bottom lip once more, he stares at your mouth as it automatically opens at his touch. It makes you bold.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist as you press your tongue against the pad of his thumb, he tastes like nicotine and beer as you slide the digit into your mouth, pressing it flush against your tongue as you push it down into the opening of your throat, sucking hard as you draw it back out again, your cheeks hollowing from the suction before releasing him, a thin string of saliva clinging between you for no more than a second before it breaks and you feel his control shatter.

He slides forward in his seat, keeping you between his legs. He puts a hand to the back of your neck as you look up at him, pulling you into a kiss as his other hand travels down your chest, his hand slipping into the cup of your bra easily before exposing you to the cool air, his thumb, wet with your saliva, running across your hardening nipple, his touch electrifying as a quiet whine escapes your throat. 

You try to press against him, to make him kiss you harder, but he keeps you firmly in place, controlling the tempo and keeping your insistence in check. He doesn't want to be rushed. He moves a hand to your waist as he kisses along your jaw and you automatically move to cover your exposed breast.

“Don't do that.” His voice is rough against your neck. You've never heard him sound like that before, you have to fight the urge to shiver. “I want to see you.” 

You still, basking in the pleasure that comes with hearing that he wants you. You turn your face towards him, the smile on your face full of affection, your voice soft. “Ok.” You undo the clasp on your bra, letting it fall away easily. “But I want to see you, too.” You tug gently at his shirt and he obliges, pulling it over his head in a single, practiced motion. 

You run your eyes down his chest. You like his body. He's thick and firm, well muscled, but relaxed and worn in. It's a man's body, you think, not a boy's.

You run your fingers through the fine patch of hair on his chest as you look at him. He's staring at where his hand meets your bare breast. You're not sure anyone's ever looked at you the way he is right now. 

He leans forward, his tongue grazing across the sensitive nub as you tentatively slide the band from it's place so you can run your fingers through his hair. He pulls you tighter to him as he sucks your nipple between his teeth, the sensation intense, you press your mouth to the crown of his head as your breath shudders out of you. 

You run your hands down to his neck, pulling back from him, swallowing when he looks at you hungrily. “Do you have any condoms?”

His eyes refocus and he huffs a laugh, pressing a kiss in the valley between your breasts, “None that would be in date.”

You look at him, shocked. “Really?” He doesn't answer and disappointment floods through you, “Shit,” you whisper, “I really wanted this.”

He blinks up at you, his eyebrows furrowing before something changes, he pulls your lips back to his, slow and deep and full of want. When he speaks, he's still close enough that his lips brush yours, it's intimate in a way you haven't experienced before. “There's more to sex than just that.” He brushes his nose against yours before kissing you again, it makes you feel drunk. “I can show you, if you want?” 

Your mouth goes dry and you shiver against him. You nod, “I want.”

He pulls you against him, his hold on you firm as he searches your face. He hums softly, pleased.

He stands and moves around you as he pulls you up with him, slipping his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and sliding them down your legs with no hesitation, before guiding you forward until you're kneeling on his armchair. 

You hold onto the back of it for balance as you brace yourself, suddenly nervous. He wraps his hands around your hips and pulls them back, you yelp when your chest tips forward, hitting the back cushion, as he kneels on the floor behind you and spreads your legs wider.

You twist around to look at him, wanting to demand some warning next time, but he doesn't even glance up at you, his eyes locked firmly on your exposed sex.

You get self conscious and try to move, to hide yourself from his sight, but his grip is strong, holding you still as he buries his face in you. You gasp, surprised, but it quickly turns to pleasure. You've had someone go down on you before, but never this way. You're embarrassed about how much of a turn on it is.

When you finally stop trying to move away from him, he runs one hand from your hip to his mouth, pausing to coat his middle finger in saliva, running it along your slit as his calloused skin grazes against your already swollen clit. You bury your face into the back of the chair, muffling your moan as your body shudders. 

He aligns his finger against your opening, circling it gently. “Ready?”

“Yes.” You speak into the cushion, your need desperate. 

“I can't hear you.” Your annoyance flares, you can hear the smile in his voice. 

You glare back at him over your shoulder, your face flushed, your breathing heavy. You meet his eye before you bite off the word. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He practically purrs as he slides his finger into you easily. 

You moan as he pushes it as deep into you as he can. Your back arches and you instinctively push back against him. His grip on your hip tightens as he changes the angle of you, lifting you enough so he can get his tongue against you again. It's overwhelming and you can't help but squirm under his attention.

He pauses to wrap his arm around your thigh, cupping his hand against your mound and using the weight of his shoulder to firmly pin you in place. When you're finally still, he adjusts his hand so he can spread your lips wider, pressing his mouth to you again, his tongue lapping at your sensitive clit as he methodically pushes in and out of you, twisting his wrist as he goes, rubbing and pressing against your inside walls. 

You're shocked at how quickly your climax starts to build, you hadn't expected him to be able to make you cum your first time together, it's never happened before.

You moans start to pitch higher, “I.. I..”

Before you can finish he pulls away from you completely. You cry out in frustration, your sex twitching as your body tries to push you over the edge, to no avail. You moan, needy and frustrated, as he holds you in place, stopping you from being able to clamp your legs together, withholding the friction you desperately need. You grit your teeth, annoyed. “What are you...”

“I'm not done with you yet.” 

His tone quiets you immediately. You hadn't known what to expect when you first started thinking about what sex with him would be like, maybe something playful, or casual. Not this, his cool, calm intensity was more than you could have hoped for. You can't picture yourself ever saying no to him, the way he is right now, and you like it.

He stands and undoes his fly, exposing himself easily, he's hard and thick, but it's the little glint of metal that catches your eye. You can't look away, you've never seen anyone pierced there before. You glance up at him as he wipes his hand over his mouth before giving himself a languid stroke with your residual excitement.

You swallow as you watch him, if he made to fuck you now, you'd let him, condom or not. He leans over to you, his dick still in hand, as he wraps his arm around your body, pulling you up to kiss him. You follow, willingly, distracted as your slick thighs brush together and your clit throbs in response, you don't think you've ever been this sensitive, it makes standing difficult. 

He moves around you, slipping back into his seat. He puts his hands on your hips and turns you away from him, putting your arm around his shoulders as he pulls you back against him, supporting your weight as he settles your back to his chest, sitting flush against his slouched form.

He moves his dick between your thighs, an inch away from your opening, his hand covering your aching sex. 

“Close your legs.” His voice is little more than a whisper as he brushes his lips against your skin, you jump to obey him anyway, moaning as his palm presses firmly against your clit, the tip of his middle finger probing at your entrance. 

He grunts as your thighs squeeze tightly around his erection. Using his free hand he massages your breast before bringing your nipple to his mouth, sucking at you lazily as he starts to thrust, your fingernails biting into his shoulder as you watch him. 

The friction is bliss.

Because of the angle, you can't help but look down the length of you both. You find yourself transfixed by the head of his cock, made visible with every thrust, glances of the metal stud glinting invitingly as he becomes glossy with pre-cum. 

You lick the pad of your thumb, coating it generously in saliva, circling his exposed head as he thrusts. He moans against your skin, his rhythm shifting slightly as his control wavers and his teeth press into the flesh of your breast. 

He pushes his finger into you fully in response, his pace increasing as he grinds his palm against you, grunting as he relentlessly pushes into you, again and again, drawing your orgasm from you whether you're ready or not. 

Your breath catches as the intensity builds, your vision clouding as your body clamps down on him, your stomach muscles shaking as your body tries to crush in on itself. You unwrap your arm from his shoulders as your hands grasp for purchase around his wrist as he overwhelms you.

He doesn't stop, he pushes you through it until your moans becoming whiny, the over stimulation leaving you writhing against him. Your desperation is what pushes him over, he finally releases you, pressing his hands to the outside of your thighs, crushing them together as he slams his hips against you, spilling his seed over you as he moans, open mouthed, against the back of your neck. 

You both collapse, panting. Your head swimming as you catch your breath. As your thoughts start to clear, you can't help but laugh, the sound breathy and tired. You rest your head back against his shoulder, glancing at him briefly. “I guess I really do have a lot to learn, huh, boss?”

“Don't call me that here.” He sounds out of breath.

You laugh again, your voice teasing. “Then what should I call you, sensei maybe?” 

“Keishin.” He says quietly, “My name is Keishin.” 

You give him a long look, surprised by his genuine answer. “Keishin.” You smile softly, your voice gentle. “It suits you.” 

You look down at the mess you're in, you should probably do something about that. You extract yourself from his lap and head towards the bathroom.

Ukai reaches for his cigarettes, his thoughts racing in the silence as the sex haze lifts. Things you'd said, things he'd done, how good it had felt to finally give in to what he wanted. The way you'd looked at him when you said his name, how his chest had tightened at the sound. He scrubs a hand over his face and pulls a cigarette out of the packet, 'but she's too young' playing on repeat in his head. His gaze settles on the ceiling as he tips his head back, putting it to his lips without lighting it, reality setting in.

“Shit.” 

You re-appear in the bathroom doorway, wrapped in a towel. Your smile sweet, your manner inviting. “Do you want to come show me how the shower works? I'm pretty sure there's room for two.” 

His mind quiets, only one thought left in his head. “Yes.” 

You grin at him and his stress melts away as he becomes sure of himself again. He leaves the unlit cigarette on the coffee table as you hold out your hand, waiting for him. He'll make it work, he has to. You're all he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you got through this beast, I salute you! I'm gonna do my best to knock out a couple of short ones a little quicker, get back into the swing of writing after my little self-sabotaging session. I know I've been dramatic about it but, honestly, the comments meant the world to me so thank you for anyone who took the time ❤
> 
> Also, it was his frenum, if you're curious.


	17. Three Rules - Azumane Asahi Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your anniversary plans almost push Asahi into an existential crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! A short(ish) little sex based part two, just like I said I would! I decided to do this one because a couple of people specifically requested a rough Asahi story and, with it being a tough time of year for a lot of people, and with you all having been so crazy kind to me the last couple of months, I just wanted to give back a tiny bit while I get back into the swing of writing more regularly again. So here he is, I hope you like him!

“You want me to force you?!” 

Asahi's voice pitches higher with alarm and you shush him loudly, frantically glancing around the packed coffee shop, praying that nobody else heard him. You make eye contact with a passing waitress and smile benignly before returning to the panicked looking man opposite you.

“Of course not!” You say in a loud whisper, honestly why does everything have to jump to worst case scenarios with him. You shift in a little in your seat, your cheeks getting warm. “I just thought that maybe you could.. you know.. take me.” 

You see his face start to take on colour and have to fight the nervous laughter that's gathering in your chest. You couldn't really blame him, this wasn't the time or place for this conversation but when the topic of an anniversary gift had come up, one thing had led to another and now here you were.

When he'd originally suggested celebrating with a weekend away it had sounded like a great plan. You already spent most of your free time together, splitting your weeks between his place and yours, but you'd never actively gone anywhere together. Not that you were complaining, you were happy being a homebody with your hot boyfriend, but a half year anniversary seemed like a good excuse to change things up a little.

Asahi had found an amazing traditional inn up in the mountains, when he'd shown you the website he'd proudly presented the photos of the gorgeous rooms and the beautiful scenery, and you'd genuinely been impressed by all of it. But, the main thing that had actually caught your eye, was the mixed bathing they offered in their onsen. 

You were pretty sure that little fact had been missed by the man sat opposite you, but the thought had stuck with you. He was beautiful, after all, even after all this time together there were still moments where the sight of him alone was enough to get your heart racing, so the thought of being able to bathe with him under a night sky in a public place held a significant appeal to you. 

But, if you were being honest, it went beyond that. Since the first night you'd spent with Asahi, something had been eating at you, and it had come to the point where it needed to be addressed one way or another. So when he'd asked what you'd wanted as a gift, you'd seen your opportunity and pounced. 

You look over at him, his eyes wide as he stares at you, you're pretty sure you can see the cogs moving in his brain from here. You press your foot against his leg under the table to nudge him back into the real world, laughing affectionately as he startles enough to cause a small tidal wave in his coffee cup that inevitably spills across the table's surface.

You pick up your napkin and wipe away the hot liquid as he apologises to no one in particular, his face etched with concern as he turns back to you, voice low. “Are you not.. happy with-?”

You cut him off before he can start to spiral, reaching out and wrapping your fingers around his, squeezing reassuringly. “I'm happy.”

You wish you could explain but it was hard to put your finger on exactly what it was that you wanted. The sex was great, he was attentive and affectionate and lord was he built, but every now and then there was a little glimmer of something else, something more. 

The first time you'd noticed it had been your first time together, when he'd stripped your underwear from you, it had been rough, and exciting. Originally you'd put it down to his strength getting away from him, maybe some over-eagerness on his part, but since then there'd been these little flickers of something unrestrained in his actions that had added up to you becoming utterly obsessed with one thought, what was Azumane Asahi really like when he wasn't holding himself back?

You shift your fingers under his, lifting his hand and brushing your lips across his knuckles, making sure you have his full attention, you need him to hear you. “I love you, Asahi.” 

He smiles warmly at you and you push ahead.

“These six months with you have been amazing, you're more than I could have hoped for and I'd trust you with my life.” His eyes soften and you know he believes you. “So I just want to know what it would be like to give up control for a night,” You give him a pointed look, your tone inviting, “have you take what you want for once.”

The corners of your mouth turn up as his eyes widen, his mouth opening and closing as you wait for him to remember how to speak. His eyes become unfocused and you feel hope spark in your chest, he's actually thinking about it. 

His eyebrows draw together and he meets your eye. “What if I hurt you?”

Everything always comes back to this. He's always trying to be so careful around you, a lifetime of being the biggest person in the room making him tentative and overly cautious.

“You won't.” You answer easily, not a doubt in your mind.

He sighs, stressed. “But what if I do?”

He's genuinely worried, you realise. You squeeze his hand again. “Then I'll say 'stop'.” When his features don't relax, a huff of laughter escapes you. “I'm not asking you to sneak in, tie me up and gag me, you know?” You glance at him, teasing. “Unless you're offering?”

A strangled noise escapes his throat and you have to laugh, you can't believe how much you love this giant dork.

“I'm kidding, Asahi.” You soothe, reassuringly. 

His shoulders sag in relief and you bring his hand to your face, turning your cheek into his palm and pressing against his touch, your voice certain. “I want to know every side of you,” He runs his thumb along your hairline and you smile. “including whatever it is that you're holding back.” He opens his mouth like he might deny it, but you stop him in his tracks. “You're mine, Asahi. Let me love all of you.”

And, to your amazement, he agrees.

Now, getting Asahi to say he'll do something, and having Asahi actually do that something without chickening out, are two very different things. So, during the week leading up to your little getaway, you start to lay your groundwork. You need to get him hungry for this, otherwise you know he's never going to let himself give in.

The first thing you decide to do is withhold sex. 

“I think it'll be romantic to wait until our anniversary.” 

You're laying on his chest in bed, looking up at him as he wraps a lock of your hair around his finger, thinking. You trace a figure of eight on his chest, your voice sweet. “It's just one week, I'm sure we can manage it.”

You feel his free hand drift down your spine, his voice rich. “Is that starting now, or...?” His fingertips graze along your hip and you feel his sigh deep in his chest. You fight the urge to smile, you're going to have to find some willpower for this, too. 

You look up at him, ready to refuse him, but when you meet his eye, your resolve falters. You grin and he knows the answer. “Just once, then I mean it.” You do your best to sound stern but it's kind of difficult when he's already laying you down so he can climb on top of you.

After that initial bump in the road, your plan starts to fall into place. 

First, you withhold sex. Then you make sure to only wear the outfits you know he likes best, especially the ones that he has experience getting you out of. You start wearing the perfume he'd bought you for your birthday on a daily basis, the same perfume that, until now, had been reserved purely for date nights and before sex. Then, you start to press up against him more, especially in public, your contact with him lingering a few seconds longer than necessary in any given situation. 

At first, you're worried that it's not working, but a couple of days in, his edges start to fray. You start to catch him watching you, looking at you like you're naked even when you're only doing the most mundane of tasks. Then he starts to get erections through the nights, you wake more than once to feel him pressed up against you, his body ready and wanting more as he fights to keep his breathing steady and his hands to himself while you pretend to still be asleep.

By the time Friday rolls around, you're so excited you're practically bouncing. You make it onto one of the morning trains heading into the mountains, with a plan to enjoy the scenery for a while before checking in for the weekend. 

Asahi makes it barely half an hour into the trip before inevitably falling asleep on your shoulder. You'd learned pretty quickly that the reason he prefers to stand on the tube, regardless of how busy it is, is because the motion puts him to sleep almost without fail. You smile down at his sleeping face, for a giant man he really could be adorable. 

When you reach your destination, the mountain air is surprisingly brisk, noticeably colder than it was in the city. You can't help the shiver that comes when a breeze sweeps across the sparsely populated platform, lifting the skirt of your sundress as it passes. 

You hear distant laughter and feel a firm arm clamp around you, Asahi pulling you bodily against his side. You welcome the warmth, looking up at him fondly, only to be met by the sight of him glaring past you. Your eyebrows furrow as you turn to see where he's looking, your eyes drifting past a small group of teenage boys and beyond, unable to see what would make him look so.. agitated.

“Asahi?” you ask, tentatively. 

He looks down at you, still annoyed, until he sees your confusion. His features noticeably soften as he gives you an apologetic half smile, a huff of air escaping him that you think is meant to be a laugh. “Sorry. Let's get out of the wind.” 

He smiles at you and you return it, his warm hand wrapping around yours as he leads you off the platform, completely oblivious to the way his eyes challenge the eerily silent group of boys currently trying to look anywhere but at the pair of you.

The town is idyllic, everything picture perfect as you flit from shop to shop, stopping to take photos and enjoying the scenery as you drag Asahi along behind you. He follows, not unwilling, but you can't help but feel like he seems distracted. 

When you come across a stall selling cups of fresh fruit you decide to take a break for lunch, finding a picnic table with a view of the valley below to sit at. 

You pick idly at your fruit as you watch Asahi, his attention seemingly entirely focused on the food in front of him, even though he doesn't appear to be doing much eating. Concern starts to pull at you, maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all, the point of this wasn't to be the only one having any fun.

“You don't like it?” 

You smile at him as he meets your eye, hoping he reads it as understanding and not teasing. He looks at the view and then at the food, seemingly unsure at what exactly you're asking about. 

“No, no it's great.” He says vaguely as he rests his elbows on his knees, mindlessly rubbing his hands together. You don't believe him. 

“Then, what's wrong?” You prompt gently, you don't want him to feel like he's personally at fault if he isn't enjoying himself. 

He doesn't reply straight away so you cross your legs and nudge him under the table with your foot. He looks up at you, huffing an embarrassed laugh, and relief washes over you, making you smile automatically. “Come on,” You tease, “you can tell me.”

You go to nudge him again with your foot and startle a little when he catches your ankle, his grip firm, before his thumb runs along your calf, stroking the bare skin of your leg, his eyes never leaving yours. “Just.. looking forward to the inn, I guess.”

Oh. You can't help the shiver that travels from his touch and up your spine. The look in his eyes makes you audibly swallow, anticipation bringing a smile to your lips. “Me too.”

You make your way up to the inn once you've finished eating, sight seeing suddenly disappearing from your to-do list.

Your room is beautiful. Large and open, accented with polished wood features, the smell of the tatami flooring nostalgic as you inspect the sleeping area. You can't remember the last time you spent a night on a real sleeping mat. You smile, it really does feel like a vacation.

You glance back at the doorway and find Asahi watching you, his eyes roaming over you where you're stood. It freezes you in place. You chuckle, surprised at how nervous you suddenly feel, before moving over to him, wrapping one arm then another around the back of his neck, looking up at him fondly. 

“Happy anniversary.” You say, smiling, before pressing your lips against his. 

He inhales deeply as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you to him as his hand drifts lower, settling on your backside and giving you a squeeze. You smile against his lips, a soft hum escaping you as dopamine floods through your system. 

His grip on you tightens and he leans down into your space, his tongue pressing against yours as his hand dips lower, slipping under your dress before returning to your backside, his grip on you firm.

His kiss muffles the surprised noise you make as his grip on you intensifies. You press your hands to his shoulders and ease him away from you, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel. He pulls away like he's coming out of a haze, his eyes taking a few seconds too long to focus, the surprise even he feels evident when they finally widen in response.

He lets go of you quickly, letting your skirt falling back into place, looking embarrassed as you stare up at him, your heart hammering in your chest, “Sorry.” he mumbles, and you almost laugh. 

You put a hand either side of his face, making him look at you. “Don't be.” You smile, excited. “Just a little longer now. We made a plan, we should stick with it.” His eyes don't leave your lips but he nods, distracted. Tonight can't come quick enough.

Your plan was a good plan, you were sure of that. Get settled into the room, eat early, relax until nightfall, bathe, bed. Perfection, right? 

The only thing you hadn't really accounted for was just how many hours there were in a day, and exactly how long those hours could feel when all you wanted was for them to pass quickly.

By the time your evening meal rolls around, the tension between you both is borderline intolerable. 

You take your seats, giving the menu a polite browse, entirely uninterested in whatever they have to offer, your thoughts only on the man opposite you. When the server comes over to take your order, you pick at random, smiling politely as he explains, in great detail, what the meal will be like, before offering a short bow and turning to leave. 

“Oh!” You catch his attention before he escapes. “And a bottle of sake, please.” He goes to ask more questions and you don't have the words to explain how little you care. You cut him off, smiling. “Whichever you'd recommend, as long as it's a full bottle.” 

You turn back to Asahi and find him staring at the server's back, something it feels like he's done to every man in your vicinity since you got here. You clear your throat softly, drawing his gaze back to you. “Hi.” You say, smiling, when he meets your eye.

He visibly relaxes as he focuses back on you, he face softening back to his usual self as he smiles across the table at you. “Hey.”

The food is pretty good, the sake even better. You refill your cups, smiling over the rim at your boyfriend as you sip, fond memories of your first date coming to mind. He'd been sweet and attentive, even back then, and had only become all the more so over the last six months. You loved him for it. 

But, you also love the man currently sitting opposite you, silent and brooding as he watches every move you make. From the way you pour the bottle of sake, to the way you lick your lips after you drink, every movement feels weighted down with his attention as he stares at you, his mind clearly elsewhere.

You glance at the window and notice it's getting dark. You look over at Asahi before calling the server back over, you don't miss the way his eyes harden as the man greets you with a smile. You gesture at the half filled bottle of sake. “Is there any way we could have the rest of this sent up to our room?” Your eyes flick to Asahi before returning to the server. “I think it's about time to get a look at this onsen I've heard so much about.” 

The server bows respectfully, “Of course.” lifting the bottle of sake before offering you a smile, his voice dipping into something vaguely familiar. Friendly, you think. “I hope you find it to be to your liking.” 

Before you can reply, a firm voice from across the table cuts in. “I'm sure we will.” You don't miss the way he stresses the word 'we'. You turn to face him, eyebrows raised, you don't think you've ever heard him speak to anyone like that before. 

The server bows again, all familiarity gone. “Of course, sir.” Before moving away to get the bottle on ice and up to your room. 

You look at Asahi, questioning. He at least as the decency to look mildly abashed, offering you a half smile and a small shrug. “Sorry.” You've heard him apologise a lot since you met him, that's the first one that hasn't sounded genuine in the slightest. 

You smile, glancing over at the exit and towards the baths. “Shall we?”

You separate at the shower entrances, he gives you a long, lingering look before you disappear through the curtain, filling your stomach with butterflies as you wonder exactly what's been running through his mind all night. 

You take your time showering, careful to wash all of the day's travel and anticipation from your body, before wrapping yourself in a towel and making your way through to the onsen. 

You glance around the pools, there are a few people around but you pay them no mind as your eyes fall on a familiar figure sat alone in the farthest pool, arms draped along the edge of the basin, face turned up to the sky as he soaks. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, struck again by how lucky you are to be able to call him yours.

You make your way over to where he is, careful not to slip, everything slick with the heavy steam rising from the water, before coming to a halt opposite him. 

His eyes drift your way, uninterested, until he realises it's you. His whole body starts, his mouth falling open as his eyes dart around, clearly alarmed at the thought of you breaking some rule to be here. You laugh fondly as he takes in the fact there are other women around, more than pleased that he hadn't been aware of their existence, even when you weren't around to distract him. 

He looks up at you again, eyes wide as you slowly remove the towel from around you, stepping carefully into the pool and taking a seat opposite him, the steaming water just about covering your breasts. “I knew you hadn't noticed.” You say, teasing.

You watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallows, his eyes locked onto you with an open intensity he rarely shows. “You knew?” His voice sounds hoarse. You like it.

You smile easily before looking up at the night sky. “It really is beautiful here.” You say, wistfully. You love the city, but coming somewhere like this was a good reminder about what you were sacrificing to live there.

You roll up your discarded towel and lean your head back against it, stretching your legs out in the warm water, the contrast with the cool night air genuinely relaxing. When you look back over at Asahi, you'd swear he hadn't moved an inch. His body rigid, his eyes still fixed on you. 

Your smile falters as doubt pulls at you. “Would you prefer it if I left?” You ask, cautiously. It had been fun to surprise him but you didn't want to ruin it for him if he'd rather have this time alone. 

He huffs a mirthless laugh, “No.” He looks around the place, his eyes lingering on the couple of men relaxing around you both. “No, you're staying here.” You follow his line of sight and realisation dawns on you, he's worried about them seeing you get out. 

A smile pulls at your lips. “Okay.” You say easily, shifting how you're sat just enough that the water dips below your breasts, exposing you to his eyes only, before you settle back into a relaxed position. “Whatever makes you happy.”

You watch his nostrils flare as he takes a deep inhale, the muscles in his chest and shoulders rippling as his fingers press against the stone edge he's resting on. 

And this is how you stay, both of you caught up in the other, neither of you addressing it, bathing under the night sky. 

When the chime finally sounds to announce that the baths will be closing soon, it triggers the flood of adrenaline you've been brewing all day, anticipation making your skin tingle as you realise the only place left to go to now, is your room.

You watch the other patrons leave, one by one, before meeting Asahi's eye across the pool, his body still pulled taught, his figure tense. You decide to take the lead one last time, while you still can. 

You stand, slowly, letting him watch the water run off your skin as your body reacts to the loss of heat, his eyes lingering on your chest as your nipples harden in the cool night air. You climb out of the water, lifting your towel from the floor, holding it in loosely in front of you without wrapping it around you. You pause, looking down at him, thoughtful.

During the negotiation phase of planning this trip, it had become clear that you'd need to set some boundaries, to keep you both on point when the time finally came for him to give you your 'gift'. 

You'd decided on three easy rules.

1) You won't initiate. Anything.

This was about giving up control after all, and as much as you loved sex with Asahi, it was always you who made the decisions. 

2) No speaking.

Once you were in the room, neither of you would be allowed to talk. You weren't going to let him spend the whole time double checking and apologising whenever he actually makes a decision.

3) You'll tell him to stop if you ever feel uncomfortable.

Asahi had been very firm about that one.

“You remember the rules?” 

Your voice carries in the quiet air, breaking his focus. You watch him pull his eyes from your body, giving a single nod in response. You smile, before turning away. “I'll wait for you in the room, then.”

You have to wait longer than you'd anticipated.

You start to become convinced that he actually won't show up as you pace between the sleeping area and the sake on the table for, what feels like, the thousandth time. Finally, you still at the sound of footsteps approaching, before he knocks lightly against the door. 

You take a steadying breath, straightening the kimono you'd been given to wear after your bath, before moving towards the door. 

You'd heard people say that he looked like a samurai from a movie before, and as much as you understood what they meant, it had been hard to see it for yourself, knowing that he had the temperament of a lost kitten most of the time. But now, you see it.

He stands in front of you, his hair loose and damp, looking even taller and broader than usual, filling out his kimono in a way that makes it look like it was made just for him. You swallow as your eyes roam over him, the patch of bare chest on show suddenly feeling like the most erotic thing you've ever seen. 

You take a step back, allowing him to move into the room, before closing the door behind him. You fight the urge to fidget with your hair, suddenly self-conscious, overwhelmed by just how good he looks. 

He turns back to face you, his eyes trailing your body. His mouth opens like he wants to say something before closing again, huffing awkwardly as he remembers the rules. You smile up at him, amused, and wait.

He seems to falter a little, his movements a little unsure as he takes a step towards you. He lifts a hand, brushing your hair behind your ear as he watches your lips, his touch trailing down your shoulder as he leans in to kiss you.

As his lips get close enough to touch yours, you move away, making him follow. He takes a half step forward, his lips brushing featherlight against yours before you move again, smiling up at him mischievously as he exhales, frustrated. 

He knows you're goading him, but it still works. 

His hand runs down your arm, taking your wrist in his hand before stepping into your space, backing you up against the wall until you have nowhere to go. You see the ghost of a smile on his lips as he leans in again, so you turn your head slightly at the last second, leaving him close enough to share your breath, but still unable to kiss you.

He presses his forehead against yours, letting out a long sigh, before something in him snaps and he finally does exactly what he wants to.

He captures your other wrist, both of them fitting easily into one hand, before pulling them up above your head. You gasp as he stretches you high, forcing you onto your toes before he stops, his weight keeping them in place as he leans in to take that kiss. 

He presses his lips firmly against yours, his free hand tracing the neckline of your kimono before slipping underneath it, your whole body shuddering as he brushes against bare skin, moaning softly as his tongue starts to explore your mouth. 

His grip tightens around your wrists as he tugs at your kimono, pulling at it until it becomes loose enough to expose your breasts. He palms at you as his lips travel from your mouth, down your neck, to your chest, his eyes closed as he draws your nipple into his mouth, oblivious to you watching him.

You sigh at the sight of him, unconcerned by his usual doubts and anxieties and, for once, feeling completely present and in the moment. You arch your back, pressing forward against him eagerly, wanting more of this Asahi. 

He doesn't disappoint, his hand following the line of the kimono before slipping between your thighs. Finding you bare and already wet, you hear him growl against your chest as his teeth scrape against your skin.

You tip your head back and moan as he circles your clit, it may have only been a week of chastity but god you've missed him.

He brings his mouth back to yours, drinking in your moans as he pins you against the wall with his body, his hand never leaving your clit as you start to writhe against him, the sensation intense.

You feel the pressure of him ease and he pulls your hands away from the wall, the blood loss in them sending a tingling sensation through your arms as he drags you forward, moving around you and pulling the kimono from your shoulders, letting it drop before putting a hand on the small of your back and gently pushing you towards the sleeping mats. 

You don't have to be told twice, dropping onto the mat and laying back as he automatically climbs on top of you, his lips crushing against yours as he does. 

Without the give of a mattress beneath you, you're reminded just how heavy he really is. You run your hands along his neck, his muscles firm under your touch, and realise that, if he wanted to, he really could overpower you anytime he wanted. With anyone else, that may have intimidated you, but right now, with Asahi, it was exhilarating.

He pauses, mid motion, before pulling away from you. His eyes drifting your mouth as he makes a decision. He moves away from you, pulling you into a sitting position before lying down beside you and undoing his kimono, exposing his erection, his desire clear. 

You blink down at him. Never, not once, has Asahi ever even hinted for a blow job. It had been left entirely to your discretion the whole time you'd been together. So, the sight of him now, looking up at you, silently demanding one, makes you ache. 

You smile, wetting your lips as you shift onto your knees, bracing yourself with one hand on the floor as you lean across him, his hand resting on the small of your back, as your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, feeling him still as you guide the swollen head into your mouth. 

You feel his fingertips bite into your back as his other hand frantically pushes the hair out of your face, clearing his line of sight, sucking in a sharp breath as he sees himself push into your mouth. 

His grip on your hair tightens for a second as you hit your threshold, before slowly sliding him out again, his jaw going slack as he stares at you. 

As your head starts to bob, his hand slides lazily along the curve of your backside, taking the time to stroke the back of your thighs, his breathing ragged as he watches you, before moving towards your exposed sex.

You can't help the noise that escapes you as his fingertips unexpectedly dip into you from behind, a moan rumbling deep in his chest, as the vibrations pulse through his sensitive cock. He pushes his fingers further into you, his jaw clenching as you moan onto him, your body shuddering around him.

He matches your pace, pushing into you in time with your movements, his eyes never leaving your mouth. Lust drives you forward as you take him as deep into your throat as you ever have, pleased when you hear him hiss at the feel of it. 

As you start to pull away from him, his grip on your hair tightens again, holding you in place. You make a surprised sound as he pushes his fingers into you as deep as he can. You moan loudly and he stills, your fingernails biting into the base of his cock as the fullness quickly becomes overbearing. You feel him press your head down onto him, little by little, pushing you past your comfort zone and towards your gag reflex as you desperately try to relax your throat. 

Just as you think there's no way you can go any further, the pressure eases and he releases you, letting you pull your mouth from him and catch your breath, panting as he pulls away from you entirely. You watch as he moves just enough to get around you, shifting onto his knees behind you, his hands wrapping around your hips. 

You move to look at him but a hand settles between your shoulders, pushing you down until your chest is flat against the mat, your hips high, and your breaths rapid as he lines himself up against you. 

You press your hands to the tatami mat, the floor cool to the touch, as he slowly pushes into you. He pauses only once he's all the way in, giving you time to adjust to him, before you feel his hand bury into your hair, turning your head so he can see your face. 

You look back at him, breathing heavily, as he moves his hands back to your hips. His silence belies his intensity, his face tense as he watches you react to him pulling almost all the way out of you, before firmly thrusting back in, his teeth gritting, as the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the quiet room and you have to cover your mouth to stop from crying out. 

If Asahi's default mode is love-making, then this time, maybe for the first time, he fucks you.

His pace increases quickly, his grip on your hips tight enough that you know you're going to bruise, breathy moans escaping him as he slams into you, all thoughts lost to him except for one word, 'more'.

You muffle your cries with your hand as he pushes air and sound out of you with every thrust, he's powerful, and overwhelming. 

You move your other hand between your legs, rubbing quick circles around your clit as he fucks you, the sensations heady and intoxicating as they build to a crescendo, your climax hitting hard and swift. 

Your legs spasm and one slips out from under you, dragging him down to the floor with you as he desperately ruts into you, your body drawing out every last drop from him as he spills his seed into you for the first time. 

His body sags, his weight crushing until he rolls off of you, collapsing to the floor beside you as you both catch your breath, distracted by the feel of him spilling from you, the sensation unlike anything you've felt before.

You feel a hand run across your back, pulling you towards him as he crushes you to his chest, his heart pounding against your ear. “Are you okay?” His voice is breathy, but still dripping with concern. 

You nod against his bare chest, your body sore but content, as he sighs with relief. You look up at him and he meets your eye, his face so serious you can't help but laugh. 

You want to reassure him. “It was a good gift.” 

He gives you a pained smile, his eyebrows drawing together. “As good as that felt, can we not make this a regular thing? This week has been very confusing for me.”

You laugh against his chest, unable to think of an argument. “Special occasions only, I can live with that.”

He lets out a heavy sigh, “Thank god.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's going to be another, even shorter, sex only one in the next couple of days, I found it almost complete in the Notes on my phone from a couple of months ago, so I just need to to type it up and it'll be done. I'm also working on my next long one, so yay! Hopefully I'll feel more like myself again soon ❤


	18. Not a chapter - An apology!

Hey guys! So I've been pretty MIA the last month or so and I really wanted to apologise for that! 

December was hell, on top of the regular Xmas/NYE blues, my only parent got a positive covid test back and I live literally hundreds of miles away and everywhere is back in lockdown so I couldn't do anything to help and I just haven't been in the right frame of mind to do anything for the longest time. Everything is fine now by the way! We were definitely lucky and I'm so so grateful for that.

Having finally gotten back to AO3 and this little collection I was BLOWN AWAY to see that it had gotten up to a thousand kudos! I'm not ashamed to say that, after a terrible month, it genuinely got me a little misty eyed lol. It's such a huge number and I genuinely would never in my wildest dreams have ever thought that that many people would like anything that I wrote so to anyone who has hit the little heart for me I just want to say thank you so fucking much, you guys are the absolute best.

And the comments! Reading that some people have come back to re-read chapters they liked while I was gone makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and it's so fucking lovely I just don't have the words to properly explain it I'm afraid lol.

Back to the main point though, I'm real sorry about not keeping up with the pace I was, I wholeheartedly plan to do better from here on out. I started writing again this weekend so I'm hoping to have a new chapter up by the end of the week and hopefully find more of a regular schedule again from then on.

I'll be deleting this when I put up the next chapter so until then I just want to say I hope everyone who reads this little post-it note had as good of a December as possible, and I hope the New Year brings all the good things to your doorsteps. 

Much love ❤


	19. His Name - Tanaka Ryuunosuke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tanaka Ryuunosuke helps you find love in a hopeless place.
> 
> A 20k slow burn that literally nobody asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Insert 3 weeks later spongebob meme here* 
> 
> Guys, I tried, I really did. That first week I started and scrapped 3 separate short stories because my heart just wasn't in it.
> 
> What was in my heart? This 20k word, anxiety ridden, introspective slow burn that I'm pretty sure won't appeal to basically anyone, making it a hugely risky choice to restart adding chapters to this little collection with.
> 
> BUT it's what I wanted to write so here it is. 
> 
> For anyone who reads it, I salute you, and if there's any typos I apologise, 20k words is a lot to proofread alone!
> 
> Sidenote - I've watched a load of BNHA and Jujutsu Kaisen recently and I am low key in love with both Dabi and Gojou, if anyone has any fanfic they can recommend for these two best boys I would be forever in your debt ❤

“Sssshhh!”

You can't stifle the snort of laughter that escapes you as you watch the extremely drunk blonde woman in front of you try and fail to get her key into the door for the third time, shushing herself loudly even as she continues to swear profusely, her insistence on taking you out to a sake bar to celebrate your first week at work having seemingly taken it's toll. 

Finally, Saeko gets the door open and you both stumble inside, closing it behind you as you kick your shoes off in the genkan. She leads you through the dark apartment to her room, sighing happily as she drops herself onto the bed before staggering back to her feet when she remembers why she brought you here.

“Sit, sit!” She insists, gesturing vaguely at the floor, as she starts rooting through her shelves.

“Smoke?” You ask as you take a seat, rifling through your pockets for your tobacco tin. 

She looks over her shoulder at you, watching you pull out your rolling papers and a little bag of weed. “Sure! Just the one though, we've got work tomorrow.” 

You raise an eyebrow as you check the time on your phone, “It's gonna be a rough shift.”

She laughs loudly, “What'sa little hangover, it'll be fine!”

You shake off your jacket, smiling distractedly as you start skinning one up. You weren't convinced about the 'little' part of that statement but it was too late to worry about that now, it had been a good night, tomorrow's problems could wait until tomorrow.

“A-ha!” She declares excitedly as she pulls a cd case down from the highest stack. “Now where did I leave that cable...” She mutters to herself as you finish the job at hand, placing the joint to one side to wait until she's ready. 

You take the chance to scan the room around you, your eyes drifting aimlessly as everything sort of shimmers with a drunken haze. You're feeling surprisingly content for the first time in a long while, you can't even remember the last time you had a night out that actually ended on a good note.

You wonder if it could be a sign that you're actually getting that fresh start you've been chasing for months now.

You catch sight of your reflection in the mirror propped haphazardly against the wall near the door and squint, closing one eye and leaning closer to shake off your double vision, your eyeliner clearly a mess even from here. 

You semi-crawl over to the mirror, licking the tip of your finger and trying to clean up the worst of the smudging. You shift your knee and hear a light clattering as you knock something over, looking down just to find yourself kneeling amongst her collection of make up. 

“Oh, sorry.” You mumble as you do your best to try and put everything back where it was. You spot a lipstick case and pick it up, “That reminds me, what shade do you wear?” you ask over your shoulder. “I wanted to ask earlier.”

Saeko looks at you smiling, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waits for her ancient cd player to come to life. “You wanna borrow it?”

You huff a laugh, narrowing your eyes as you try to read the inexplicably blurry label. “Might be a little bold for me. It's pretty though.” 

“Try it!” She insists loudly, “Won't know 'til you do.” 

Maybe she has a point. You drop your weight onto your heels, kneeling comfortably as you pop open the lid, leaning your face close to the mirror as you drag the stick across your lower lip. 

You hear as she starts to click through the tracks, searching for the one she wants before turning the volume up and grinning at you. “Ready to be impressed?” She hits play before you have a chance to answer.

You listen as a rhythmical beat picks up from the speakers, the sound surprisingly warm considering it was solely Taiko drums. You watch in the mirror, amused, as Saeko mimes a series of sloppy motions, ones you assume she's better at when she's sober. 

You rub your lips together and take a closer look at yourself. The corner of your lip pulling up into a hollow half smile, “Definitely too bold.” you say, thoughtfully, just as Saeko trips over her own feet and lands heavily on the bed, laughing loudly to herself. 

You shake your head before cocking it to the side, listening, were those footsteps? You lean towards the door to try and hear better but before you can say anything the door snaps open and a well muscled, furious man in his vest and boxers stands over you, glaring at Saeko. 

“Would ya pack it in already?!” He shouts, aggressively. “I'm tryin' to sleep!”

“Ryuuuuuu!” Saeko's voice chirrups happily from her crumpled heap on the bed, “I thought you'd left for Yuu's already!”

Something itches at the back of your brain as they start to argue, you vaguely remember Saeko mentioning she lived with a brother a little younger than you, this must be him. 

You squint up at him, he still has crease marks from his pillow on his face from where he's clearly just woken up but, still, he seems kind of familiar. 

A memory floats to the surface.

It had been your first day at the Eatery and you'd slipped out of the back door for an impromptu smoke break, lighting a joint in the back alley and self medicating your low mood, when a wiry guy in a beanie, singing tunelessly and carrying a stack of boxes, had stumbled upon you.

You'd both frozen as you'd made eye contact, your eyes briefly flicking down to the boxes, 'Karasuno Eatery' clearly stamped on them. Annoyance had rippled through you, of course you'd get yourself caught on your first day. 

You'd let out the lungful of smoke you'd been holding as you'd looked at him, considering. He was just a delivery guy, maybe you could still get away with it. You'd sighed loudly, lifting one foot and stubbing the joint out on the sole of your shoe before flicking it into the dumpster. 

You'd snapped your finger up to point at him, almost laughing when he'd physically jumped at the gesture. “You didn't see anything.” You say, firmly, before turning away and heading back inside without waiting for a response. If he was going to tell then he was going to tell, not a lot you could do about that now.

You'd been pleasantly surprised when he hadn't.

“Hey, I know you.” You smile up at him broadly, your voice warm. “You're the delivery boy, right?”

“Huh?” His tone annoyed, he frowns down at you as if noticing you for the first time, his eyes immediately going wide at the sight of you on your knees in front of him. 

“Whaaat?” Saeko complains from behind you, “You already know each other?”

You glance back at her, “He caught me smoking on my first day.” You look up at him, still smiling. “Thanks for not ratting me out, that was cool of you.” 

You raise an eyebrow as he continues to stare blankly at you, a blush rising up his skin like a human thermometer, and you realise he's very clearly looking right down the front of your top.

“Ahh, Ryuu's always been a sucker for a pretty face!” Saeko declares fondly as you try not to laugh, fairly certain it's not your face that has his interest right now.

He stutters back to life, his eyes bouncing between you and his sister, slow to take in what she'd said before stammering out a hasty 'shut-up' and disappearing from sight, “I'm going to bed! Keep it down!” 

Saeko laughs as he retreats to his own room. You look back at her, amused. “He seems... nice?” 

She cackles again before dragging herself upright, “He is, I promise!” She leans down, scooping up the joint before grabbing your hand and pulling you onto your feet, dragging you towards the kitchen. “Hows about a nightcap?”

A 'rough shift' turns out to be an understatement.

You press your forehead against the cool surface of the table, desperately trying to remember what it's like to not feel like a reanimated corpse. Your head hurts, you feel sick, you've spent all day on the razor's edge of breaking into a cold sweat, and since this morning's aspirin wore off it's only been getting steadily worse.

You roll your head to one side, glaring at a seemingly unaffected Saeko happily laughing along with the kitchen staff about who knows what. You let out a sigh. Your brain feels heavy, is that a thing? Can brains feel heavy?

You feel your phone vibrate for what feels like the hundredth time today and close your eyes, tamping down the urge to growl. You pull the offending item out of your pocket and glare at it, clicking your tongue at the message on screen before slapping it face-down against the table and turning away from it. 

“You ok?”

You make the monumental effort to lift your head from the table, swallowing down the ripple of nausea that follows, and look up at Saeko leaning over you with a sympathetic smile. 

“Why are you fine when I feel like I've been put through an industrial mangle?” You frown, even your voice sounds weird.

She grins proudly. “Practice.”

Your phone buzzes again and it takes every ounce of restraint you have not to just yeet the damn thing into next week. 

Her grin falters. “Your ex still giving you grief?”

You sigh, defeated, as you push yourself upright, smiling mirthlessly. “Apparently it was a mistake not to tell him I wasn't going home last night.”

Her smile becomes strained. “Nice that he's worried, I guess?” Even she doesn't sound convinced.

You snort derisively. “Nosey more like, he just wants to know who I was with. You'd think he'd just be grateful to have one less night on the sofa.” You glare down at your phone as it buzzes again. 

You'd thought things had been getting easier between the two of you. It hadn't been an amicable split, not by a long shot, you'd both behaved pretty unforgivably towards the end, but you'd genuinely thought you'd made some progress over the last couple of months, worked through some of the bigger wounds and come to some kind of common ground to move on from.

Not that there'd been much choice in the matter. The lease on your shared one bedroom apartment had still had months left on it and neither of you could afford to live there alone. So you'd compromised and cohabited as best as you could, alternating who sleeps where, the bed or sofa, eating separately for the most part, and now you'd found a new job with a longer commute to extricate yourself even further.

Just a little longer, you think, just a little longer and then you'll finally be able to close the door on this whole thing.

Saeko looks down at you, your silence loud. “How about I get you some aspirin?” She offers gently, “You're looking a little peaky?”

You drag yourself out of your spiral and meet her eye, giving her a brief smile as you nod. You hadn't known each other very long at all but it was kind of nice having someone like her around when your thoughts got too loud.

“That reminds me,” you say with a smile, “I meant to thank you for the ones from this morning. They worked wonders, no way I'd have made it this far without them.”

Her eyebrows draw together, confusion clear on her face. “This morning?”

You nod. “The bottle of water and painkillers that were on the coffee table?” When you'd risen like the crypt-keeper from her sofa this morning they'd been the first thing you'd laid eyes on. Water had never tasted so sweet.

She shakes her head, “Nothing to do with me, you were up before I was.” She says over her shoulder as she heads into the back on a hunt for aspirin, leaving you frowning after her. 

Your phone starts to vibrate again and you decide to just bite the bullet and face it, he clearly wasn't going to let this go. You take a deep breath and answer the phone.

You start spending more time at Saeko's after that.

You're at the Eatery the following weekend when you spot a familiar figure standing at the counter. 

Saeko had mentioned that her brother was due home today. She'd assured you that he wouldn't have a problem with you camping out in their living-room from time to time, but you still had your doubts. You were pretty sure he hadn't walked away from either of your encounters with the best of impressions.

You take a levelling breath and mentally prepare yourself to try and be likeable. After all, the third time is the charm, supposedly.

“Hey.” You offer easily as you sidle up beside him. “It's...” 

Shit. Your mind blanks. Was it Yuu or Ryuu? Saeko had mentioned both names so often this week you suddenly couldn't separate the two.

“...Yuu, right?” You hope your hesitation wasn't too obvious.

He looks down at you, eyebrows drawn together. “Huh?” He's scowling again. That's probably not a great sign.

“Ryuu!” Saeko's chipper greeting has you fighting the urge to groan out loud. Of course you'd guessed wrong. Nice, very nice, way to get him on side.

She starts drilling him with questions about his beach getaway and you make the decision to quietly slink away before you can embarrass yourself any further.

That night you head back to the apartment with Saeko after work, falling into your regular seat with a heavy sigh, your mind running a million miles a minute about all the things you needed to deal with and just... weren't.

Saeko heads off to the bathroom for a shower while you roll your first joint of the evening. It occurs to you again how lucky you are that she doesn't mind you smoking here, if she did then you were pretty sure you wouldn't be here right now.

Or much at all, really. 

You frown down at your hands as they make easy work of the all too familiar motions. It shouldn't be like that, you know, but that didn't stop it from being true.

You bring the finished product to your lips and light it, discarding the lighter onto the table before leaning back into the sofa cushions and closing your eyes, waiting for that first hint of relief to come.

A few minutes pass and you hear a door click. You swing your head to one side, expecting to see Saeko, just to be met instead by the wide eyes of her brother as he steps out of his bedroom. 

You jerk upright like you've been caught again, leaning forwards and quickly stubbing out what's left into the ashtray, exhaling the residual smoke in the opposite direction of him. It's a pointless gesture, considering the closed room you're both in, but still a force of habit that's hard to shake.

You let out a little apologetic huff of laughter, suddenly unsure of what to do with yourself as he just stands there, staring at you like he thinks he's seeing things.

“...was thinking do you want pizza tonight?”

Saeko's voice breaks the awkward silence as the bathroom door swings open, both of you snapping out of the weird stand off as she steps back into the room.

“Ryuu!” She greets him happily. “You wanna join us? I'm craving pizza.”

“Us?” He asks, vaguely alarmed, his eyes darting back towards you.

You give a small wave, “Hey.” you say, lamely, a wave of gratitude coming over you as Saeko explains about you occasionally staying over while you're house-hunting, omitting the finer details of your current living situation. You'd have to thank her for that later, the idea of having to explain it all to another person was.. yeah, just no. 

And it's not like the house-hunting was a lie. You had been meaning to get around to that. At some point. You sigh inwardly, you can't keep avoiding things like this, even you can tell you're making things harder than they need to be.

Your hands reach for your tobacco tin, your body on autopilot as Saeko heads for the kitchen in search of the takeaway menus and her brother takes a tentative seat in the armchair across from you.

You're running your tongue along the rolling papers, ready to seal it, before you finally emerge from the echo chamber that is your mind and your eyes lock onto the man opposite you.

“Oh.” Your fingers still and you tilt your head at him, apprehensive. “Saeko said it was fine, but I won't if you'd prefer I didn't? It's your home, after all.” You laugh weakly, the silence in the room kind of unnerving.

He shakes his head slightly, looking away from you. “S'fine by me.”

You offer him a small smile, hoping your relief isn't too obvious as you light it. “Thanks.”

He shrugs and reaches for the television remote as you take your first inhale. You take a second to look at him while he's distracted, wondering if he always scowls like that or if it's just you that's annoying him.

Saeko reappears from the kitchen, menu in hand. “Ok! What's everyone want on their pizza?”

“Meat.”

Saeko glances between the two of you and you realise you'd both spoken in unison. You smile easily at her brother, “Great minds think alike.”

He frowns at you briefly before his attention goes back to the TV, leaving you a little confused as to why Saeko seems to be grinning pointedly at him, her voice laced with amusement. “Looks like the two of you will be sharing then.”

He opens his mouth to argue before falling silent when you shrug, agreeing easily. “Fine.” he mutters quietly before seemingly losing interest in the conversation again.

You kind of expected him to just eat and then disappear, so when he sticks around you can't help but be at least a little bit hopeful that he doesn't find you quite as intolerable as you were afraid he might. You've never been great at endearing yourself to new people, that's why you liked Saeko, she'd just accepted you as is, no questions asked. You really don't want her brother to hate you.

You bring the joint to your lips and light it, inhaling deeply when he catches your eye and doesn't immediately look away. You can't tell if it's progress or curiosity, but still, you take the opportunity to offer him the next hit. 

His eyes flick between you and it before he gives a small shake of his head. “It just makes me tired and hungry.” 

You raise an eyebrow as you turn to look at Saeko, curled up around an open bag of potato chips as she dozes at the other end of the sofa. “What?” She asks defensively when she sees you looking, “Leave me alone. Sometimes it's nice to eat and sleep.”

“Lightweights.” You mutter, teasingly.

She gives you a firm shove with her foot, “I'll remember that next time we go drinking.”

Memories of that hangover come screaming back with a vengeance and you concede quickly, throwing up your hands in surrender. You know when you're outmatched.

It's not long before she's out cold, snoring softly while still cuddling her bag of snacks and you decide to relocate yourself to the floor so she can stretch out if she wants to. 

You're just about done rolling another when a voice breaks the silence.

“Could I.. could I have some?”

You glance up to see him rubbing a hand over his shaved head, not quite looking your way.

You offer him a lazy smile, “You sure? I don't want to go being a bad influence on my new friend's little brother, now.” you tease, gently.

He pulls an annoyed face before meeting your eye and faltering. Nodding briefly, he surprises you by sliding out of his seat and onto the floor near you as you light it before passing it to him.

You watch him take a tentative inhale, half expecting him to cough on it, but he holds his own, taking a second hit before passing it back. You breathe a sigh of relief that it really isn't his first time, you were only sort of joking about not wanting to be a bad influence.

You pass it back and for quietly between yourselves, neither of you speaking much at all. You get greedy when it comes to the last hit, chancing an extra inhale, only to pull a face as it burns uncomfortably down your throat. You bury your face into the crook of your elbow as you try to muffle your cough, your body expelling the harsh smoke the hard way.

You offer a grimaced apology as you discard what's left into the ashtray, your hands already moving towards your tobacco tin to roll another.

His voice is quiet. “Do you always smoke so much?”

You shrug one shoulder before nodding. “Pretty much.”

A couple of seconds pass before he replies, “Why?”

You pause mid-motion and look towards him, ready to make a joke until you see how intently he's looking at you. Your smile falters as you consider it, you've always thought a genuine question deserves a genuine answer.

You drop your hands into your lap and lean back against the sofa, your voice contemplative. “Everyone needs something, I guess. Something to wind down from the daily trials and tribulations, you know?” You chance a glance his way, a dry laugh escaping you. “I did try alcohol for a while but drinking has always been more of a team sport for me.”

He frowns a little, thinking. “I don't think I have anything like that.”

You arch an unconvinced eyebrow, leaning towards him to hook your fingertip under the sleeve of his t-shirt and lift it, exposing his bicep. “With those guns?” You tease, “I'd guess yours was exercise.”

You move away from him and he smooths the material back down, his hand lingering on the spot you'd touched him, his features thoughtful. “Does that even count?”

You tilt your head one way, then the other, considering. “Yours is definitely the healthier choice between the two, but it serves the same purpose.” You meet his eye, shrugging. “Shake off the day, put it behind you, and just -be- even if it's only for a little while.”

He considers it for a minute before nodding to himself. It's funny, looking at him now, sat so close, his face illuminated in the dark by the light from the television, he's not just built, he's actually really kind of good looking when he's not scowling at everything you say...

Nope.

You mentally slap that thought right out of your skull. You will not perv on Saeko's little brother. You make a grab for your tobacco tin, some thoughts are better tuned out.

You startle as Saeko lets out a tongue curling yawn from behind you. Grumbling to herself, she puts a hand on your head, using you as balance to help her stand while you seal your joint, her voice thick with sleep. “I'm off to bed.” She pauses only briefly to rub her brothers head roughly. “Be nice, Ryuu.” 

He pushes her hand away, his tone annoyed. “I'm always nice.” Rolling his eyes as she pokes her tongue out at him and heads to her room.

You're kind of surprised when he doesn't leave too.

You look at him as you spark the lighter, curious. “So, Ryuu?” His eyes widen a little at the use of his name. “What's it short for?”

He clears his throat, shifting a little under your gaze. “Ryuunosuke.” He seems embarrassed. “But no one calls me that anymore.”

You throw the lighter onto the table, inhaling deeply, before breathing the smoke out slowly. “Ryuunosuke.” You roll the word around your mouth thoughtfully, like you're tasting it. You smile at him, “It's a good name, a strong one. It suits you.” 

He looks at you for a moment like you have two heads before turning away, his skin flushing deeply as he mumbles something incoherent into the hand that's now covering his mouth. You have to work to ignore how cute his reaction is.

You talk for a while longer before you feel yourself start to get tired, he must notice too because he makes to stand when you do. He lingers for a second, one eye on you as you drop heavily onto the sofa. It takes you by surprise when he offers to sleep on the sofa so you can have his bed for the night. 

Your voice is teasing, but the smile is genuine. “Well, aren't you the sweetest?” His skin flushes as he looks away and you almost feel bad for making him uncomfortable again. Almost. “It's ok. As far as sofas go, yours is actually pretty comfortable. Thank you, though.” 

It takes him a second before he meets your eye again, nodding once before heading to his room, leaving you staring up at the ceiling, lost in your thoughts until sleep takes you.

“So what did you think of him?”

“Hm?” You ask, too tired for vague questions on your walk to work. “Who?”

Saeko snorts, “Who do you think?” She asks, playfully. “Ryuu.”

“Your brother?” You're put on the back foot as she silently nods, her eyes downcast at the floor in front of her. “He seems nice?” You venture, unsure what else to say. “Why?”

She lets out a heavy sigh, looking off into the middle distance as she answers. “I don't think he'd thank me for telling you, but he's kind of had a tough year, you know?” 

“When he graduated from high school he stopped playing volleyball, his teammates mostly went off to college, then a little while ago his best friend left as well, off travelling for who knows how long.” She gives you a sad smile. “Since then he's seemed kind of...” She searches for the right word, “deflated? I guess.”

“I had no idea.” You say quietly. 

She heaves a dramatic shrug, something closer to her regular smile falling into place. “I don't really know why I'm telling you this, but I guess what I'm saying is, please be patient with my idiot brother. I think he could really do with another friend right now.”

By the time your lunch break rolls around, this morning's conversation had all but faded from your thoughts. 

You slip out of the back door, tobacco tin in hand, ready for five minutes of peace and quiet, when you spot a familiar beanie loitering at the end of the alley, his back to you as he stares down at his phone.

You look around, he doesn't seem to be with anyone, but maybe he's waiting for someone? You look down at your tobacco tin, torn, before sighing and slipping it back into your pocket. A couple of minutes longer won't hurt.

You wander down to where he's stood, oblivious to your presence, and you just can't resist the temptation. You reach to his left, tapping his shoulder as you step to the right, stretching up to whisper into his ear as he looks away.

“Boo!”

He jumps and sidesteps away from you, leaving you laughing, an annoyed scowl on his face. “You know for a big guy, you're kind of jumpy.” You say, amused.

He opens his mouth to retort before pausing, “You think I'm a big guy?”

The question puzzles you. You run your eyes over him appraisingly as he shifts under your gaze. You give him an easy smile, “Well, you're certainly not small.”

He scratches the back of his neck and looks away, clearing his throat before abruptly changing the subject. “What do you want?”

You shrug, not seeing a reason to lie. “I saw you lurking and got curious.”

“I'm not lurking!” He snaps defensively. “I was just thinking about getting something to eat.” You watch as he glances down at his phone again before slipping it into his pocket. You can't help but notice that he looks kind of lonely in that moment. 

Well, you can't just leave him now.

“Well, I guess you could go order something. Or..” You stretch out the word as you lean towards him conspiratorially, “I could go see what I can scrounge up out of the kitchen for you for free?”

He blinks down at you, clearly surprised by the offer. “Really?”

You nod, grinning, before putting your hands on his back and pushing him towards the front door. “Go in and sit in the first corner booth, the one by the window?” It's the only table in the place that you can't see clearly from the counter. “I'll bring something out for you in a minute.” 

He looks conflicted but lets you push him. “Are you allowed to do that?”

“Sure,” You say easily, “as long as no one finds out.” you grin up at him, “So don't let your sister see you!”

You give him one last push before returning the way you came, slipping through the backdoor and into the kitchen to see what you can round up.

His eyes light up when you finally appear with a tray full of food and a pitcher of water, setting it out on the table before sliding into the seat opposite him. “I didn't know what you'd like so I got a bit of everything.” You explain as his eyes roam over the dishes laid out before him.

He looks up at you, practically drooling already. “You sure you won't get in trouble for this?”

You try not to smile, he really is sweet. You shrug instead, grabbing one of the chicken skewers for yourself. “Not if you help me get rid of the evidence.” It's all the encouragement he needs to start devouring everything you'd put in front of him.

After a while you feel yourself relax, your elbow on the table, head resting in your hand as you people watch out of the window while he finishes eating, your curiosity peaking as you spot one of the regulars heading this way.

“Hey, Ryuunosuke?” You hear him cough on his food and automatically move to pour him a glass of water while he thumps on his chest, trying to dislodge whatever it was that he clearly hadn't chewed properly. “You know a lot of the people around here, yeah?”

He takes the water greedily, taking a second to catch his breath before frowning at you over the rim of the glass, a suspicious look on his face. “Kind of, I guess, why?”

The customer steps through the door and you tilt your head in his direction, not-so subtly mouthing the word “Him?” as he passes by your booth.

He gives you a sour look before leaning across the bench to get a better look at the guy as he heads towards the counter. Extremely tall with blond hair, you'd noticed him around quite a bit since you'd started work. 

“Tsukishima Akiteru.” He answers blandly before returning to his food. 

“Who is he?” You ask, distracted, as you watch him approach the counter. You were pretty sure he had a thing for Saeko, which wouldn't be all that strange, she was popular with a lot of the regulars, what had caught your eye though was that every now and again it felt like maybe she liked him too. 

He shrugs without looking your way. “His little brother was my junior at school.” He pauses awkwardly before glancing your way. “W-why?”

You're still watching their little interaction play out, smiling to yourself as he steps to one side so he can keep talking to her while she works. They'd make a pretty cute couple, you think, opposites but in a sweet sort of way. “Is he a nice guy?”

He pushes the last of his food around the plate before abandoning it completely, wiping his hands off on a napkin as he shrugs, his tone a little irritated. “Ask my sister, she'd know better than I would.”

You yank your head back into the booth as Saeko looks your way, not wanting to be caught spying. You turn to her brother, a pleased smile on your lips as you think about all the ways you're going to tease her if she does like him. “I might just do that, you know.”

A few days later, on her day off, Saeko texts to ask you to swing by her place when your shift finishes.

You check the time on your phone as you enter the building, all too aware that you'll have to be mindful about how long you stay, you can't afford to miss the bus today. You sigh, dejected, you'd much rather stay here for the night but a promise is a promise.

You become aware of yelling as you reach their front door, not quite loud enough for you to make out words, but still enough to set you on edge. 

You hesitate before knocking, considering just sending Saeko an excuse via text, it's not like you weren't going to see her tomorrow anyway.. but then you think about how often people must have heard this kind of thing from your apartment when things were at their worst, and how badly you'd always wanted someone, anyone, to intervene.

You're knocking before you can think any further. You know their relationship and situation couldn't be any more different, but even so, you wouldn't feel right if you just left now.

You hear an irate voice coming your way. “I said I'm going! I heard ya the first time so shut up already!” There's a half second of quiet as the door swings open and the voice snaps at you, “What?”

Whatever concerns you might have had flit away on the wind as you take in the glorious sight of Tanaka Ryuunosuke, in all his rage, spatula in hand, wearing a pink apron with a cartoon cat on the chest. 

His face contorts into one of pure anguish at the sight of you. His voice strained. “Why is it always you?”

“Hey!” You say defensively, your tone dripping with offence. “First of all – rude.” 

He snaps his mouth shut like he's surprised you heard him in the first place.

“Second of all,” You take a second to savour it before giving him your best grin. “that's a real pretty apron you've got there, Ryuunosuke. The colour really brings out your eyes.”

He glowers at you for a second before turning on his heel and stomping back towards the kitchen, leaving the front door open in what you assume is a reluctant invitation.

You follow him inside as he shouts into the living room, “If you knew who it was you coulda gotten it yourself!” and have to cover your mouth to smother your laughter when you hear Saeko cackling in response.

You pass by the kitchen, where a very sullen cook is now muttering to himself, and head towards the seating area, finding a particularly smug Saeko, feet crossed on the table, arms folded behind her head, looking very much like the king of the castle.

You raise an eyebrow, questioning, “You're in a good mood?”

“He wants his hair cut so he's stuck waiting on me tonight.” She whispers as he re-emerges with a plate of food in hand.

You catch a whiff of it as he passes and have to control yourself before you salivate, “Saeko, you never told me your brother was such good husband material.” you admonish, “It smells good, I'm a little jealous.”

You're taken by surprise when she isn't the one who responds.

“There's enough.” He offers, almost eagerly. “If you want some, there's enough.”

Saeko watches the interaction curiously over her plate. You smile, gently, genuinely touched by the offer. “I'll have to take a raincheck.” You say apologetically, “Unfortunately I've already got dinner plans for tonight.”

There's a flicker of something across his face and you worry you've offended him by refusing his food. “Thank you though.” you stress, you want him to know that you're grateful, it really was a kind offer.

When he heads back to the kitchen, Saeko's voice is quiet, “I take it they're not fun dinner plans then?”

You sigh as you drop into your seat beside her on the sofa. “Not at all.” You lean back against the cushions and tilt your head towards her. “He 'wants to talk', apparently.” You frown, “Although why we need to go out to do it, I've got no idea.” You shrug, helpless, your voice becoming self-deprecating. “It's just one meal. Anything for an easy life and all that, right?”

She gives you a sympathetic smile, “Whatever happens, if you need anywhere to get away for a bit, our door's always open.”

You smile back at her, a weight lifting from your chest. Lost for any words you could say, you settle for stealing a piece of food from her plate instead. 

She gives you a firm stare, “The first one was free, the second one will cost you.” 

You decide not to chance it.

One emotionally draining meal, a sleepless night, and a full shift later, Saeko insists on taking you back to hers, regardless of your opinions on the matter, doing a pretty decent job of physically dragging you home until you finally give in to her demands and follow willingly.

You drop heavily into your seat on the sofa, before reconsidering and moving yourself onto the floor, afraid that if you get too comfortable you'll be asleep before you know it.

Saeko looks down at you, concern etched into her features like it had been for most of the day now. After you'd given her a brief run down of how your night had gone, she'd become the very picture of a concerned mother hen. “I think today might be a beer day, you know?” 

You give her the ghost of a smile, “I think you might be right.”

“I'll run down to the konbini, then we'll see what we can do about that mood of yours.” She smiles reassuringly, before heading back towards the front door, leaving you alone in the apartment.

You rest your head against the seat cushions and close your eyes. You must have dropped off because you're startled awake when the front door slams a while later.

You scrub your hands over your face, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to dislodge the memory of waking in the middle of the night, your ex standing in the bedroom door, asking if he could join you. “I hope you got the good stuff,” You call out, “because you won't believe what he tried last night.”

You blink away the spots in your vision, your voice dying in your throat when you realise it wasn't Saeko that you'd heard. 

“Ryuu.” You say, giving him a weak smile. Please don't ask, please, please don't ask. “Sorry I thought it was-”

“I'm baaaack!” You breathe a sigh of relief as Saeko reappears, drawing his attention away from you. “Ryuu! You're gonna join us for a couple of drinks, right?”

He glances briefly at you before turning away. “I don't wanna interrupt. I'll take one to my room, though.”

Saeko slaps his hand away from the bag, “Like hell you will. Buyers choice – you drink, you stay.”

“Fine, forget it!” He snaps before heading for his room, slamming the door behind him, leaving you both blinking after him.

You let out a sigh. You keep doing this, bouncing between two separate lives, shedding one whenever you step into the other and falling into a panic whenever they bleed into each other. “Maybe I should go.”

“Don't even try it.” She warns, “I don't know what's going on with him but he'll cool off, there's no reason for you to go anywhere.”

When you still don't look convinced she decides to compromise. “Come on,” she coaxes, “I went to all the effort to buy these already, at least have one with me. You still wanna leave after that then I won't stop you.”

If she didn't look so damn concerned you probably still would have refused, but instead you feel yourself smile. “Ok, one it is.”

One quickly turns into several, mix that with your obligatory smoking habits, and before too long you're well passed the point of no return. 

You're in the middle of rolling your next one when Saeko almost startles it out of your hands, hopping up from the sofa, lightning quick, to chase her brother down as he'd tried to sneak his way through to the kitchen unseen.

They're gone for a few minutes before you hear her shout from the hallway, “I'll be back in a minute!”

You let out a heavy sigh, bringing it to your lips to light it, then tipping your head back and taking a long inhale.

“Bad day?”

You lift your head so you can meet his eye. “What gave me away?” You say ruefully, gesturing to the collection of empty bottles in front of you.

He shrugs. “My sister told me.”

So much for secrets. 

“Of course she did.” You say, warmly. Oh well, whatever she told him, you know she means well. You huff a laugh, amused with yourself, unsure when exactly you'd started having so much faith in other people.

He shifts awkwardly in the hallway, as if he's unsure whether to stay or go. You tip your head back, close your eyes and take another drag. Me too, Ryuunosuke, you think, me too. 

The silence of the room becomes heavy, memories of the night before echoing around your thoughts. His apologies, his promises, his insistence that this time things would be different, that if you sign a new lease then there'd be no reason for either of you to leave.

You screw your eyes shut tighter. You'd tried so hard not to end up back here, you'd really thought you wouldn't do this again.

You hate it, why is it so hard to reject him? Why, after everything you've done to each other, why does a part of you still want to go back to it? To slip back into the comfortable familiarity of it, misery and all.

You hear a rustle of movement behind you and remember you're not alone. You sniff once, trying to inconspicuously swipe at your eyes, hoping you just look tired.

“Here.” The softness of his voice surprises you.

You open one eye to see Ryuu sat in Saeko's place, the lighter held out for you. You realise the joint had burnt out while you were spiralling and needs relighting.

“Oh.” You lean towards him and let him do it for you, taking a deep inhale before looking back up at him. “Thank you.”

He shrugs and sinks back into the seat, fiddling with the lighter. You find yourself relieved that he's staying. You really don't want to be alone.

Saeko returns not long after with more beer. Her brother stays where he is, belligerently refusing to give her her seat back as they descend into sibling bickering, with 'finders keepers' and 'you snooze you lose' type arguments that leave you laughing at the pair of them, the noise of them weirdly comforting.

Saeko is the first to fall asleep, curled up like a cat in the armchair nursing, what you hope is, an empty bottle of beer.

The conversation peters off after she's asleep, but you find yourself not minding the quiet so much now, watching trash TV from your place on the floor while Ryuu quietly sips his beer on the sofa.

You tip your head back against the seat cushions, your eyelids getting heavier every time you blink. You feel yourself starting to drift but don't have the energy to fight it, reasoning that a couple of minutes won't hurt.

When you open your eyes again you know time has passed, there's a different show on screen and the room is now practically pitch black.

You briefly wonder what woke you, until you feel the lightest of touches as fingers trail through your hair. The sensation repeats again, then again, and you realise someone's stroking your hair, a gesture so sweet and soothing that for a minute you think you might actually cry. When was the last time someone did this for you?

It's only when you become aware of Saeko's snoring that you realise who it is. “Ryuunosuke?” You whisper, softly, into the darkness.

He pulls his hand away and you immediately miss his touch. Without too much thought you lean towards him, resting your temple against the side of his knee, a tiny point of contact that feels surprisingly grounding.

After a minute you feel a tentative hand start to stroke your hair again. Sighing, softly, you close your eyes and let him lull you back to sleep.

When you wake in the morning it takes you more than a few minutes to figure out where the hell you are.

You're fully clothed in an unfamiliar bed, in a room plastered with bikini clad centrefolds, and clothes strewn about everywhere. 

You sit up, feeling a little nauseous but nowhere near as bad as it could be. You find yourself greeted with the sight of a bottle of water and a packet of aspirin on the bedside table, and immediately get hit by a wave of deja vu. 

You drink the whole bottle down in a one and are immediately made aware of how painfully full your bladder is. You drag yourself out of bed and leave the room, pausing briefly as you take in the sight of Ryuu, one arm thrown over his eyes to block out the morning light, still asleep on the sofa. 

You smile, brief but genuine, before you remember what you were doing and practically sprint to the bathroom. 

Once you're finished, you find yourself at a bit of a loss for what to do. You're clearly the first one awake, but you don't feel comfortable going back to Ryuu's bedroom, the chair has a pretty big wet stain on it that you're going to assume is the remnants of that bottle Saeko had been holding, and the sofa is obviously occupied.

You decide the best course of action is to just reclaim your floor seat from last night and hope for the best, muting the television and settling on one of the cartoon channels to pass the time.

It isn't long before your eyes drift from the screen to the sleeping man. 

From this angle you can see more of his face, his arm only partially covering it from view. You're struck by how completely different he looks from when you'd first met him. You rest your head on the seat cushion beside him, watching his chest rise and fall. Who would've thought under all that scowling there'd be such a kind face.

You don't notice how relaxing his breathing is until it's too late.

You're jolted awake by the sound of unadulterated squealing, immediately locking eyes with a blushing Ryuu as his sister barrels out of her room, clutching her phone to her chest.

You jolt upright and try to ignore the heat rushing to your face. You can't believe you fell asleep on him! You fight the earth shattering cringe that's lurking just below the surface and try to push it to one side, promising yourself that, at the first opportunity, you were going to curl up in a ball and just wait for the ground to swallow you whole. At least for a little while.

Saeko reaches a new height in pitch as she thrusts her phone into her brother's hands, bouncing excitedly as he scowls at the screen, reading.

It turns out that Saeko's favourite band are going to be playing a secret show in Tokyo the following weekend, something that she, as a top tier fan club member no less, had early access to tickets for.

She shrieks again when he passes the phone back to her, holding it close to her heart as you try not to laugh. Who would of guessed that Saeko, of all people, could be an S rank fangirl when she wanted to be. 

“We're going, right?” She asks her brother as he drags himself upright, awkwardly moving around you as he swings his legs down into a sitting position.

He nods. “Yeah, yeah, we're going.” She squeals again and you can't help but smile as you watch her. You feel a foot nudge gently against your leg. “You should come, too.” He adds, quietly, not quite looking at you. 

You feel something unfamiliar flutter low in your stomach.

“You should come, too!” Saeko's voice cuts through the moment, leaving you huffing a laugh to cover your all too genuine smile. 

“Sounds fun.” You say, smiling, a little unsure of whose invitation it was you were really accepting. She offhandedly mentions begging for the use of the truck from work, causing Ryuu to look inexplicably terrified at the idea of her driving you all there.

Seeing her so happy makes you think of Akiteru and his lost puppy face when Saeko hadn't been her usual cheerful self the day before. “I prefer to see her smiling.” His words echo around your thoughts as you watch her. Well, she's definitely smiling now. 

“Could you get four tickets, actually?” You ask, nonchalantly. “I'll pay for the extra.”

“Why?” You hear the sternness in her voice and realise she thinks you want one for your ex.

You roll your eyes, you can safely swear on your life that those two worlds will never collide. “Don't look at me like that.” You chide, amused. “I just know someone who might be able to give us a ride.”

The rest of your day is spent being subjected to the band's entire discography while you tell yourself that it's just residual embarrassment that makes your stomach feel weird every time you unexpectedly meet Ryuu's eyes.

The next week passes in a blur. 

You and Saeko pick up extra shifts so you can both have Sunday off, deciding, after much deliberation, that working before the gig would be preferable to working after it.

Akiteru agrees after minimal hesitation, this kind of music not really being his scene and all that, but your argument about how thrilled Saeko would be ends up being too much to resist. He even agrees to keep it a secret, likening it to a surprise party. You try not to mention that his role would be the equivalent to that of the sexy lady bursting out of the birthday cake, a mental image that keeps you amused all day.

The highly anticipated day finally rolls around and after the longest shift of your life, Saeko's excitement knowing exactly no bounds and your patience knowing many, she almost pulls your arm out of its socket in her eagerness to drag you home.

In her room, you dig through the backpack you'd brought with you and take out your change of clothes. After learning that the venue was an underground club that would inevitably get stuffy and sweaty, you'd settled on your shortest denim cut-offs and a loose racerback tank top, as well as your oldest oversized hoody, one that you had no qualms about stretching the arms of so you could tie it around your waist when it inevitably got too warm to keep it on.

You grab your bag, leaving Saeko to finish her make-up, and find her brother slouched on the sofa, channel-surfing while he waits. You playfully rub at the fuzz of his hair as you drop into the seat next to him. He swats your hand away before looking at you, surprised, his tone vaguely accusatory. “That's what you're wearing?”

You give him a teasing smirk as you notice him lingering unnecessarily on your bare thighs. “Do you have a problem with my legs, Ryuunosuke?”

He rolls his eyes and looks away, his attention going back to the screen while you both wait for his sister to be done. 

The silence between you had become a comfortable thing over the past week, your presence seeming not to bother him much at all now, though you couldn't really pinpoint what exactly had changed. All you know is that he scowls a lot less these days, and he doesn't seem to be quite so adverse to your teasing. In fact, sometimes at least, you think he might even enjoy it. 

Your phone chimes in your pocket and you have to gracelessly wrestle it out of the tight material. You're expecting it to be Akiteru, letting you know that he's outside with the car, so you can't help how your face falls when it's not.

I need an answer. We only have a week.

You blink down at the message as your stomach rolls and your brain goes into shutdown mode. You can't do this right now, you'd told him what you were doing tonight, so why do this now when he knows it's only going to stress you out.

“You ok?” Ryuu is staring at you, concerned, as you white knuckle grip your phone. 

You offer him a weak smile, “Yeah, of course.”

Before he can ask anything more, your phone chimes again, Akiteru's name flashing on screen, snapping you out of it as you accept his call. 

“Hey!” You say eagerly as you answer, “Are you here?” Ryuu watches you out of the corner of his eye as you grin widely when he says he's outside. “We'll be down now.”

You hang up the phone before leaning over the back of the sofa, “Saeko! Our ride's here!” You hear her squeal excitedly in response and you turn to her brother, laughing, “You ready to go?”

He's already standing, shutting off the TV as he grumbles something about how he was only waiting on you two anyways. He pauses briefly before offering you his hand, you stare at it before accepting, letting him pull you up from your seat.

“You're taking the bag, right?” He gestures with his chin towards your backpack and you nod, Akiteru had offered to drop you home on your way back tonight so it was coming with you. “I'll carry it.” 

He scoops it up and slings it over his shoulder before heading for the front door without another word, leaving you blinking after him.

Saeko practically bounces out of her bedroom, hooking her arm into yours as she drags you after him. “What are you waiting for? Let's go!”

When you all reach the building's exit, Ryuu comes to a sudden halt, scowling through the glass door before looking back at you. “Really, him?”

You frown at his reaction as Saeko's curious voice cuts through the sudden tension. “Who?” She let's out a little gasp before pushing the door open and waving. “Akiteru!”

Ryuu rolls his eyes and heads towards the idling car, gesturing for Akiteru to pop the trunk so he can throw your bag in while Saeko leans down to chat through his open window. You can't help but smile, pleased with yourself at how happy she looks to see him.

You hear the trunk slam closed and frown as you watch Ryuu glance at you before opening the front passenger side door.

“Hey!” You call out, trying to telepathically communicate that it's meant to be Saeko's seat, “Who said you could sit up front?”

He shrugs, oblivious, “Not my fault you were too slow.” before sliding into the seat and closing the door.

Saeko hops in behind Akiteru, leaving you to walk around the car and take the seat directly behind Ryuu. You slip into the backseat, leaning forwards to sharply flick the back of his ear before reaching for your seatbelt.

He lets out a hiss of pain and covers his ear, glaring back at you. “What was that for?!”

You raise your eyebrow at him, not allowing him to play dumb. You don't know what's gotten his panties in a bunch but you in no way have to take his bad mood screwing with your master plan lying down. 

“You're in the back on the way home.” You warn.

He shifts a little in his seat, looking away and crossing his arms over his chest, his attention anywhere but on you as Akiteru puts the car into drive.

Time passes surprisingly quickly. Akiteru is unerringly patient even in the face of Ryuu's initial reluctance to enjoy himself. The weird mood swing seemingly coming to an end when they start animatedly reminiscing about Ryuu and his little brother's first trip to the National competition with their volleyball team.

You find yourself distracted by just how alive Ryuu seems to be when he's sharing that part of himself, a world away from the stubborn, sullen boy you'd gotten to know over the last few weeks.

It makes you feel kind of jealous.

You lean back into your seat and watch the world pass by as their chatter melts into the background and something quiet and ugly starts to pull at your thoughts. 

You think about the unopened message still sat in your inbox and your fingers wrap around your phone as you waver, wondering if you should even be here in the first place. An all too familiar heaviness settles into your chest, the one that comes from being not quite here, but not quite there, the constant feeling of misplacement exhausting. A week. How had you let it get here? How could you still be undecided?

Saeko laughs beside you and it snaps you out of your spiral. You push your phone back into your pocket, feeling defeated. You'd been putting it off for so long now, what difference could one more night make?

You feel an arm nudge against yours, and look up to see Saeko watching you. “Everything ok?”

You give her your best smile and nod, “Just a little car sick, it'll be fine.”

Or not.

Saeko stares at you with big, wet eyes, her face one of pure distress, as the four of you stand outside the, clearly, closed venue doors.

“I'll go ask someone.” Akiteru says, helpfully, before heading towards the ticket window as you pat her arm soothingly, unsure what else you could do.

“It's been postponed until tomorrow.” Ryuu announces from behind you, reading from his phone. “Their flight got delayed.”

You let out a sigh, that's going to be a problem. Even if Akiteru was ok with driving all this way again tomorrow, he'd already said the car was on loan from his parents and it'd be too big of an ask to put all those extra miles on their car. 

“Maybe we could borrow the Eatery's truck?” You ask, but Saeko shakes her head.

“It's market day, no way they'll let us have it.” She says, dejected.

Akiteru reappears and they explain the situation. You chew the inside of your cheek as your eyes drift down the street and a flashing neon sign catches your attention. A smile pulls at the corner of your lips. “Hey, guys.”

They turn to look your way and you point towards the motel sign, the word 'Vacancies' flashing invitingly in the dusk light. 

Saeko's eyes light up at the idea while Ryuu just stares at the place. Akiteru, on the other hand, looks anxious. 

“It's better to beg forgiveness, than ask permission, right?” You suggest with a half shrug. “It might be fun.” 

He looks conflicted until Saeko whirls on him, stepping into his space and gripping the front of his shirt, puppy dog eyes firmly in place. He sighs before softening dramatically, smiling down at her so fondly that you feel like you should look away. “Sure.”

They have two rooms left, a double and a twin, so you decide that you and Saeko will share the double, and the boys can have the twin room. Ryuu breathes an odd sigh of relief at the plan and it leaves you wondering if he was afraid he was going to have to share a bed with Akiteru for the night, a mental image that you find highly amusing.

After getting your rooms booked and being given the keys, you take the receptionist's advice and make the ten minute walk to a diner near the main street to get something to eat. 

Once you get there though, your mood takes another turn and you find yourself picking absently at your food, just not feeling hungry, instead resorting to idly fiddling with your napkin as the others talk.

Saeko pokes your arm, “Still feeling ill?”

Ryuu looks up at you, his cheek comically full of food. He tries to swallow it down so he can speak but Akiteru beats him to it, his voice concerned as he leans across the table towards you. “Are you unwell?”

You laugh a little awkwardly and shift in your seat, your anxiety spiking under their attention. “No I'm fine, just not hungry I guess.”

You feel a nudge to your foot under the table and glance up to see Ryuu pointedly looking at your hands. You look down, realise you've been rolling the napkin like a joint, and immediately feel your cheeks get warm. You crush the stupid thing in your hand before dropping it onto your plate and looking up at the ceiling, feeling embarrassed.

You're overcome by the need to get out of there. 

You clear your throat. “Actually maybe I am still feeling a little sick.” You stand too quickly, forcing an apologetic smile. “I'm gonna get some fresh air while you guys finish up.”

You think you hear Saeko ask something as you pass her but all you see is the exit. You get outside and step around the corner, out of sight of the front window, before leaning back against the wall and letting out a slow breath, the cooler air, and the distinct lack of fluorescent lighting, comforting.

Your hand twitches towards your pocket, reaching mindlessly for your tobacco tin, the one that you'd left at home because there wasn't supposed be time to need it. You let out an annoyed sigh, staring down at your feet. It's just one meal, what's wrong with you?

You feel movement and turn to see Ryuu silently take up position beside you, his eyes still pointed towards the street, his voice casual. “You didn't bring any with you, huh?”

You could play dumb, but you don't see the point. “Nah.” There's a moment of quiet and you wonder why he's out here. “Where are the others?”

He shrugs, uncaring. “He's a slow eater.”

You sigh, a sad smile on your face. “You really don't like him, do you?”

He bristles a little, finally meeting your eye. “Does it matter?”

You nudge your shoulder against his and huff a laugh, you want him to know you're not picking a fight. “You know, this would be much easier if you did.”

He looks down at you as he nudges you back. “He'll survive. It seems you like him enough for the both of us.”

Something in your chest pulls as you meet his eye, why does he look so sad? 

Before you can ask, Saeko appears on the corner, gesturing excitedly at you both to come join her, pointing at something further down the street. “Look! There's a sake place!”

You can't completely smother the groan that escapes you. Drinking beer with her was one thing, but that night on sake had damn near killed you and you really didn't know if you were ready to get back in the water yet.

Ryuu lets out a soft sigh before mindlessly scuffing the sole of his shoe repeatedly against the street.

“I'm not very good at drinking sake.” Akiteru admits when he joins you, a little shyly. You perk up at the confession, it might not be traditional, but that could totally work as an impromptu date.

You put on your best smile, brightening considerably at the thought of them getting a little closer. “I wouldn't worry about that,” You say, confidently, putting a hand on Saeko's shoulder and pushing her forward. “Saeko is an excellent guide, she can show you the ropes!”

She narrows her eyes at you, suspicious. That definitely doesn't sound like something you'd say.

Akiteru's eyebrows raise at that, looking impressed. Poor, sweet, trusting Akiteru. You'll owe him an apology tomorrow.

“Oh, Tanaka.” His voice turns disappointed, his eyes on Ryuu. “You're still too young to drink, right?”

He says it kindly, but you still see Ryuu bristle at the question. You'd almost forgotten he was a year younger than you, but still, you decide to cut in before it goes any further, smiling tauntingly at him. “No worries, I'll handle babysitting duties.” 

His mouth falls open, looking so annoyed it's hard not to laugh. Saeko starts to argue but you stop her. “You really wanna drive home with a carsick and hungover me tomorrow? Really?” She pulls a face and you know you've won. 

You give her a smile, a genuine one, “Go have fun.” you insist, putting your hand out so she can pass you a room key. “It's not every night we get to be in the big city.”

Ryuu is still looking at you like you've got two heads but you decide you're not giving him the opportunity to get in the way this time, not after the car seat earlier.

“Right, come on then you, let's get you home for your bedtime.” You put your hands on his back and force him down the street, ignoring his outrage as you give them one last wave before turning the corner and getting out of sight.

He finally shakes you off, taking a second to straighten his hoody, before giving you a strange look. “You don't want to stay?”

You huff a laugh, “And be a third wheel? No thanks.” You glance up and down the street before picking a direction. “We can just grab some beer or something on the way back, I'm pretty sure we passed a convenience store on the way here.”

You look back at him when you realise he isn't following. He furrows his brow, clearly confused. “Third wheel?”

“Yeah?” You say, unsure what he's asking. “It's not like they need me playing chaperone for them, do they?”

His eyes go wide as they flit between you and the street you'd just come from. “You mean? You don't...?”

You sigh, your patience thin, one step away from stamping your foot like an impatient child. “Don't.. what? Out with it already!” 

He blinks at you, “I thought you liked him?”

You laugh, surprised. “Who? Akiteru? No, of course not.” Where on earth had he gotten that idea? “Now come on, I'm getting cold and I don't know when the shops close.” 

You turn and start back towards the motel. He catches up eventually.

You let yourself into the room and flick the light on, taking off your hoody as you drop onto the bed to untie your shoes. Ryuu follows behind with your bag of shopping, pausing just inside the doorway before staring at the double bed you're sitting on, his eyes wide with alarm.

“Don't panic.” You tease, a grin on your face. “You're not stuck with me, it's just until they get back. You're safe.”

He opts to ignore you entirely, closing the door behind him and putting the bag down on the table near the television. “You want one or what?” He asks, pulling a couple of beers out and cracking them both open without waiting for your answer.

You pick yourself up and move over to take one, digging through the bag and pulling out the box of chocolates and pack of playing cards you'd impulse bought at the counter. “Fancy a game?”

You settle on Blackjack, quick and easy. The loser has to drink, the winner gets a chocolate. He taps out from that prize early, claiming that they're too sweet for his taste. You have no such qualms, happily making your way through them all on your own.

An hour in he frowns down at the box, gesturing at one lone chocolate that you seem to be avoiding, his voice curious. “Hit. What's wrong with that one?”

He groans as you pull out the seven of diamonds, taking his total to 22. “Bust.” You say with a smug grin as he takes his swig of beer. “And nothing. I'm just saving the best til last.”

He rolls his eyes as you stick on 16, taking the easy win and popping another chocolate into your mouth. “You're really gonna eat all of them?”

You shrug, a smile on your lips. “Only if you keep losing.”

You just had to taunt him, didn't you?

“Are you pouting?” He asks, barely containing his laughter.

You school your features into something more neutral and scoff, “No.” He'd found himself on a bit of a winning streak and the increase in your alcohol intake had not done you any favours in turning it back around. “What time is it anyway? We've been playing for ages.”

He smirks at your obvious attempt to run away but checks anyway, his eyebrows shooting up as he reads the time. “It's past midnight.” You check your phone, you've got no messages from either of them yet. 

“Are they not coming back?” You mumble, feeling yourself start to yawn, the day catching up with you alarmingly quickly. “Maybe we should make this the last one? I could do with some sleep.” 

“Fine.” He says, a confident smile on his face. “Winner takes all?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You concede dismissively as you send off a quick text to Saeko, reminding her not to lose Akiteru before setting an alarm for the morning and wedging the phone back into your pocket.

You deal the last hand and he immediately draws a King and an Ace. He grins at you, practically oozing self-satisfaction. “Blackjack.”

You pull a sour face, grumbling. “Well that was anti-climatic.”

You both stand and you watch Ryuu as he leans for the chocolate box, purposely snatching up the one you were saving, before turning your way, smirking. “Winner takes all.”

You point your finger at him, your tone firm. “Don't even think about it.” Your words only makes his smile bigger. “I'm serious.” You warn, “I will fight you for it.”

His eyes practically sparkle at the challenge as he brings it closer to his mouth. You make a lunge for him, trying to snatch it from his hand, your tone petulant. “You don't even like them!” 

He takes a playful step away from you and you give chase, he moves awkwardly, knocking into the table, before hopping up onto the bed, laughing as he lifts it as far out of your reach as possible.

Well two can play at that game. You catch his free hand around the wrist and drop to your knees onto the mattress, pulling with all your strength. You catch him off balance and drag him down with you, taking the opportunity to gain the upper hand and straddling his legs as you try to wrestle it away from him.

When it becomes clear it's only going to melt this way, you do the only thing you can think of, you lean across him, practically smothering him in the process, and eat it straight out of his hand, your lips brushing against his skin as you steal it from him. 

You sit up, raising your hands in celebration. “I win!” You loom over him, a smile on your face as the chocolate starts to melt in your cheek. “You aren't going to congratulate me, Ryuunosuke?” You taunt, your mouth full. “I never knew you were such a poor loser.”

You freeze as you feel his hands on your knees, his skin impossibly warm against your own. “You,” He says, his voice breathy as his hands slide up the outside of your thighs. “might be the most annoying girl I've ever met.” 

His hands pause just before he reaches your shorts, his fingers momentarily bite into your flesh, and you yelp as he flips you onto your back, rolling on top of you and pinning you to the bed.

When your head hits the mattress, your teeth clamp shut, cracking the chocolate open and letting caramel flood over your tongue as he holds you in place.

He leans in, looking smug, his body flush against yours. His voice is rich in a way you haven't heard before as he holds your gaze, “I win.”

Kiss him, the traitorous little voice in the back of your mind begs.

You become aware of a telltale something pressing against your thigh and hear yourself swallow, heat flooding your cheeks as your eyes travel down to where your bodies meet, your voice quiet. “Um?”

It breaks the spell and he pulls away from you like he's been burned. You prop yourself up on your elbows and stare at him, watching as his eyes skim over your body before he looks away, the regret painfully obvious on his face. 

The silence is heavy and panic pulses through you as your brain flails. Unsure what else to do, your mouth comes to your rescue. “I'm gonna go wash up. Goodnight.”

Your movements feel mechanical and awkward as you stand up from the bed and walk to the bathroom, the lingering taste of the caramel hormonally confusing. Were you really just about to kiss him?

By the time you're done convincing yourself it was nothing more than an embarrassing accident, he's already in bed.

You try to stay quiet as you cross the room, unhooking your bra and peeling off your shorts so you can sleep comfortably, before lifting the blanket and sliding into your side of the bed as you pretend your eyes aren't following the contours of his bare back.

You fold your hands behind your head, lacing your fingers together as you stare up at the ceiling, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness and trying not to think about how much easier it would be to sleep if you had something to smoke. You've never been good at falling asleep in new places.

“You awake?” You ask softly into the silence. You hear a disagreeable grunt and smile. “Me neither.”

He's quiet for a moment before he turns over to face you, his nose missing a collision with your raised elbow by millimetres. He gives it a dirty look before following the line of your arm downwards, his eyes coming to a stall when they reach the swell of your breast, your skin exposed by the cut of your tank top. 

You raise your eyebrows as he stares, clearing your throat softly. He meets your eye and his face falls into an all too familiar scowl. You feel yourself smile, “Do you have a problem with my sideboob, Ryuunosuke?”

He lets out an annoyed groan and turns away from you again. A fond laugh bubbles up from low in your chest, you reach over to him, rubbing the soft fuzz of his shaved head affectionately, your voice warm. “Sorry. You're just too much fun to tease.” 

Returning your hand to its place behind your head, you close your eyes and wait for the slow crawl towards sleep to begin.

A while later you notice him become restless. You think nothing of it, assuming that he's just trying to get comfortable until you feel his weight shift awkwardly, followed by the softest of touches as he taps your arm.

You open one eye and turn towards him, only to be met with his face impossibly close, eyes screwed tightly shut, as he presses his lips to yours.

It's over so quickly it doesn't even occur to you to close your eyes before he pulls away, his face a dark shade of crimson as he tries to look anywhere but at you.

You feel something, a flicker in your chest, for this ridiculous sweet idiot in front of you. Your thoughts quiet except for one - if he's going to kiss you, he could at least do it properly.

You lower your arms and turn your whole body towards him, his eyes linger briefly on your chest when he notices how your breasts have been pressed together now you're on your side.

You don't mind, he can look.

When he's finally brave enough for eye contact again, you give him a smile, leaning towards him so you can return his kiss.

His whole body becomes rigid, you're not even sure he's breathing, and when he doesn't relax at all you pull away, concerned that he's changed his mind until you feel his hand reach for your waist, keeping you close.

You bring your fingers to his jaw and he shivers as you trace a line to his mouth, grazing your fingertips along his lower lip, before gently pulling it down, coaxing his mouth open.

You lean in again, taking the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth and brush it featherlight against his own.

His breath catches and your thighs inadvertently squeeze together as he exhales a throaty moan into your mouth, his fingers digging into the material of your top as he pulls you closer.

His hesitation melts away as you kiss, his movements becoming more natural, more confident, when you make it clear you're not going to reject him.

Your fingers travel along the back of his neck and down to his shoulder, every muscle firm under your touch. You knew he worked out but you hadn't realised he'd feel so strong. 

His hand slips around to the small of your back as he finally pulls away from your lips, trailing kisses along your throat as you catch your breath and you become aware of a growing firmness pressing against your stomach.

You run your fingers along his collar bone as his lips find yours again, his breath hot and heavy against your open mouth as your hand runs down his chest and along the ridges of his abs, enamoured with just how defined he feels. 

His breathing falters as you reach the waistband of his boxers. His body vibrates against you, nervous energy radiating from him, and you decide to take things slow, using a single finger to gently trace the outline of his erection through his underwear, pleased when he twitches and pulses under your touch.

The hand on your back flexes briefly before ever so slowly moving along your waist, hesitating slightly before following the swell of your hip around to your bare thigh.  
His movements are agonisingly slow when your brain is screaming only one thing.

Touch me. 

His breath shudders as you part your legs for him and it requires all of your willpower not to roll your hips to meet him. When he finally presses down against you, the pressure is delicious as the already dampening material clings to your aching sex as he tentatively explores you through your underwear.

You suck in a sharp breath as he slips over your clit and he stalls, suddenly unsure again. 

“I don't..” He starts, his voice strained. “I mean..”

You look up at him, willing yourself to be patient. Why does he look so nervous?

“Have you never..?” You hedge, gently. 

“I have.” He cuts you off quickly. “I've done things,” His statement seems purposely vague. He sighs, quietly, his tone vulnerable. “but you don't feel like just some girl. I wanna get it right.”

Your chest aches for him. You think he deserves better but, for tonight, you want to be selfish.

You put your hand over his, moving it to your stomach before guiding him into your underwear. He goes willingly, his fingers slipping between your folds as you press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I trust you.”

His touch shivers against you as you moan softly against his throat. Returning your hand to his boxers, you slip your hand under his waistband and run your palm over the length of him, from tip to stem and back again. His breaths turning short and sharp as he bucks and twitches against your touch. 

Biting down on his lower lip, his jaw clenches as he tries to maintain his control, his attention coming back to the slickness of you as he tentatively circles your clit. He watches intently as your eyes flutter closed and your head tips back, his eyes drawn down the line of your throat to where your chest heaves as you breathe.

“You're so hot.” His voice is rough and rich.

You huff a laugh, giving him a lazy smile as he draws another moan from you. It feels so good to be touched. You wrap your fingers around his length, the solid feel of him exciting. “So are you.”

His eyes rake over your face before he presses his lips to yours again, the tips of two fingers circling your entrance, the promise of fullness close enough to taste. He breaks away from you, pressing his forehead to yours as he pants against your mouth, his eyes locked on yours.

“Say my name.”

Your back arches as he teases you, dipping his fingertips into you before pulling away, leaving your mind cloudy and your body eager. “Ryuu?”

There's a pause before he gives you a small shake of his head, still staring at you intently.

The corner of your mouth twitches up as realisation dawns on you. “Ryuunosuke?”

There's a little shudder that runs through him before he finally pushes into you, your grip on him tightening as your body accepts him, desperate for more, only wanting him closer.

You say it again, your voice breathy. “Ryuunosuke.” 

You'll say it as many times as he wants as long as he keeps doing what he's doing.

He leans back a little, groaning as he watches you writhe under his attention. “How do you do that?” He asks, entranced by the way you say his name. “Do you even know what it does to me?” You can hear the pleasure wrap around his words as he thrusts into your touch. He's so hard. “Every. Single. Time.”

You offer him a twist of your wrist, your fingers gliding across his shaft, meeting the pace he's setting, making him grunt. You can't keep the satisfied smile from your lips. “Sorry?” 

He grins at you, his eyes heavy lidded and hazy from lust. “Liar.”

His fingers curl against something sensitive and your breath catches in your throat. Your thighs squeeze tight around him as you rock your hips, shamelessly grinding against his hand as he fingers you.

He brings his lips to your ear. “Does it feel good?” His voice is barely more than a whisper. You can't tell if he's genuinely asking or just teasing you, and right now you don't know if you care.

You meet his eye, your voice shaky. “Yes.”

Either way, your simple answer seems to trip him up. He says something under his breath, his hips haphazardly bucking against your hand before his attention snaps back to you, more intense than before.

He leans over you, the weight of him pressing you onto your back. He curls his fingers again, making you gasp. His eyes dragging over every inch of your face as your pleasure pools. A little more, that's all you need.

“Ryuunosuke,” You whine, “faster.”

He obliges, his pace increasing until all you can do is ride it out as your release sparks and rocks through your body, your grip on him inadvertently tightening as you cry out. He makes a strangled sound before thrusting violently into your hand, his body moving on instinct alone as he comes undone, spilling his seed into your hand and across his stomach, before collapsing against your shoulder, panting.

The come down from your temporary high is jarring.

The silence creeps in as you catch your breath, the reality of what you just did inescapable.

“I need to clean up.” He mumbles quietly before moving away from you and heading to the bathroom. 

You look down at your hand, still covered in him, and feel a rush of heat pass through your body. Shit. He's Saeko's little brother. What were you thinking?

The way he'd looked at you forces it's way to the front of your mind, his voice jagged and wanting. “Every. Single. Time.” 

Don't, you beg yourself, don't like him. It won't end well.

You glance around, looking for anything to wipe your hand off on. When you find nothing you resort to wiping it on the side of the bed, offering a silent apology to whoever will have to change the sheets in the morning.

You hear the toilet flush and turn onto your side, facing away from him. You don't think you could meet his eye right now even if you tried, you don't want to see him look at you with regret.

His weight drops back onto the mattress and you hold your breath, your body stiff with anxiety as you try to anticipate how awkward this is about to get.

You feel as fragile as glass as he reaches for your hair, gently sweeping it out of the way before he curls up behind you, his arm slipping under the blanket as he wraps it around your waist, pulling you against him as he brushes his nose against the back of your neck.

You don't know what to do with yourself. Why is he being so sweet with you?

He takes a deep inhale of your hair before pressing his mouth to the back of your head, his voice already thickening with sleep. “Goodnight.”

You just lie there, staring into the darkness. Your chest aches painfully as you realise he's not going to push you away, or play games with you now he's got what he wanted. 

You blink away the sting in your eyes, suddenly unsure why you'd doubted him in the first place. “Goodnight.”

The sound of your alarm beeping drags you out of a deep sleep.

You feel around the bedside blindly before managing to wrench one eye open, scanning the room groggily for your phone until you spot it sticking out of your shorts, still discarded on the floor from the night before.

You awkwardly reach for it from the comfort of the bed, stretching precariously before overbalancing and having to catch yourself with one hand on the floor, swearing quietly. You hook one finger into the denim and drag it towards you, feeling the blanket slip from your body as you struggle, before you finally manage to snatch the damn thing out of the pocket, tapping furiously on the screen until it quiets.

You drag your top half back onto the bed and drop heavily onto your pillow, feeling like you could happily sleep for another week yet. You glance at the time again, sighing as you realise there's only an hour left until checkout. 

You allow yourself a good stretch, groaning happily as your neck and shoulders give a satisfying pop, before sagging back into the mattress. 

You glance to your side and feel every inch of you freeze as you lock eyes with a blushing Ryuunosuke, last night flooding back to you with alarming clarity as you feel a disconcerting pulse between your thighs.

“Hi.”

The word leaves your lips on a sigh and you immediately flush, suddenly self conscious about how weird of greeting that is the morning after... everything.

“Hey.” His voice is quiet but not sleepy. 

You become extremely aware of the fact you're still uncovered, internally cringing as you hope in vain that he was asleep when you decided it was a good idea to go head down, ass up to grab your stupid phone.

Your eyes run down his bare chest of their own volition and you have to fight the urge to reach out and touch him. He looks good, has he always looked this good?

His voice snaps you out of it. “Could you.. uh...” 

He reaches towards you, his cheeks looking like they're about to catch fire, before he gently pulls the blanket back up and over you, hiding most of your exposed skin from sight, before letting out a shaky breath, his nerves clearly getting the better of him too.

You're laughing before you realise it, the tension snapping like a twig. He rolls his eyes, scowling, and you reach out and rub the fuzz of his hair fondly.

He lifts his arm and you expect him to swat you away, so it's a surprise when his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand to his lips briefly before holding it to his chest, the softness of his smile breathtaking. “Morning.”

The alarm on your phone sounds again, the automatic snooze having timed out.

You hear Ryuu sigh beside you as you make a grab for it, letting out a long yawn before he sits up, “I guess we better get sorted.”

Your heart stutters as he gives you a shy smile over his shoulder before heading for the bathroom. You roll over onto his side of the bed as you watch him leave, burying your face into his pillow when he closes the door to smother a noise so high-pitched you're pretty sure only dogs could hear it.

You're in trouble, you can feel it.

By the time you make it down to reception the other two are already there. Saeko, of course, looks as fresh as a spring daisy, while poor Akiteru looks like a stiff breeze might be enough to knock him over.

You smile at him sympathetically. “You two had a good night, then?”

It had been an innocent question but you don't miss the way Akiteru's cheeks turn pink as he looks towards Saeko to answer for them. You're also not the only one who notices.

“Gross.” Ryuu mutters beside you and you swipe at him with your foot to quiet him. The two of you definitely don't have any moral high ground about secrets this morning.

You all head out for breakfast before spending the majority of the day exploring the city, Saeko dragging you from shop to shop, the sheer amount of things available to buy overwhelming. 

You're doing an impressive job of resisting temptation right up until the moment Ryuu catches you lingering on a particular skirt that caught your eye. 

You're in the middle of an internal debate, one between cost and want, when you feel something brush up against your arm. 

“That'd look pretty on you.” He keeps his voice quiet, his breath warm against your ear, before immediately moving past you, carrying on like nothing had happened before anyone can notice your little interaction.

Your skin tingles as you force your eyes back onto the clothing in front of you, his opinion greatly tipping the scales in favour of 'want'. You chance a glance his way and catch him watching you, he holds your gaze for a heartbeat before looking away, his face becoming a shade darker as he fights off a bashful smile.

You tear your eyes away from him and swallow down the urge to grin, mentally chiding yourself for behaving like a schoolgirl with her first crush. You're old enough to know better.

You still buy the skirt.

By the time the venue is due to open its doors, you're twice as tired as you had been the day before. Apparently working an eight hour shift was less taxing on the body than spending the day shopping with Saeko.

You're leaning into the trunk of Akiteru's car, putting your new skirt into your backpack before going inside, when your knuckles scrape against the metallic hinge of your cigarette case.

You pull it out and give it a shake, surprised to find a pre-rolled joint inside. You pause for a second, annoyed that you'd had this the whole time when you've wanted one so badly.. Your thoughts trail off and you frown, thinking back over the day. Had you even thought about it once today?

“Come onnn!” Saeko whines, “The doors will be opening soon!” 

You shove the tin back into the bag with a shrug and slam the trunk closed. “Coming!”

Once you're inside you feel the excitement start to set in and Saeko immediately drags Akiteru towards the stage, eager to get up close and personal to the action. Ryuu holds back a little, his eyes finding yours as you realise he's waiting to see what you want to do. He's so sweet, it's not fair.

You could do with a drink.

“You want a beer?” You ask, gesturing towards the bar at the back of the hall. 

He nods before handing you his wallet. You try to refuse it but he stops you in your tracks, his voice tinged with regret, “It's not like I can buy you one,” he shrugs, “at least let me pay.”

On your return you find him talking animatedly with a man who looks like he could be a long lost sibling of the Tanaka clan, or a cousin at least. Ryuu smiles shyly at you as you approach, their conversation dying out as you hand him his beer while his friend,Tora, blushes furiously when you're introduced. 

Oh no, you know that look, it's another adorable idiot. You push down the compulsion to torment him. 

“Oh!” You say as Ryuu thanks you for the drink, pulling it out of your pocket to return it. “Your wallet.” 

Tora blinks at the interaction before his eyes go wide, his voice shocked. “Is this a date??”

Ryuu starts to stammer out a vague denial while nervously glancing your way. You watch as his blush creeps down to his neck and you can't help but wonder how far you could make it spread if you found the right triggers.

You decide to answer Tora instead, choosing honesty. “I hope so.” You say, easily, giving Ryuu a knowing smile. “He did invite me, after all.”

Your answer silences them both and you take that as your cue to leave. 

“I'll let you catch up.” You say, automatically excusing yourself from any awkwardness you may have caused. “I can see the others, come find us when you're ready?” Ryuu blinks down at you before nodding. You stretch up to kiss him on the cheek before leaving, grinning at just how warm his skin has gotten. “Have fun.”

He gets back just as the main act starts, finding the three of you near the speakers where the crowd is a little thinner. He takes the space next to you as you share a quiet smile. You're glad he caught up with his friend but, still, you're happier now that he's back.

Halfway through the first song you feel his arm wrap around your waist as he pulls you out of the way of a particularly boisterous group of people next to you. You shout your thanks, but you're left surprised when he doesn't let go. You look up at him and he avoids your gaze, his face obviously red even in the dim lighting.

You jump as you hear Saeko's voice behind you, carrying extremely well even above all the noise, as she puts an arm around each of your shoulders and squeezes. “Aww I'm so happy! I've always wanted a little sister!”

You laugh, embarrassed, and wait for him to jump away or tell her to shut up, but he doesn't. Saeko removes herself and you feel him pull you a little closer, his hold on you firm while your heart thunders in your chest as you realise he likes you. He actually likes you.

You slip your hand into his back pocket and he startles as you give him a squeeze. You laugh warmly as he scowls down at you, leaning in to kiss him just below his jaw. Scowl or not, only a second passes until he returns your affection, his lips gently pressing against your temple, before his eyes go back to the stage and it takes all of your willpower not to just stand there staring at him. 

At the end of the show Saeko heads straight for the merch stand with Akiteru while you make your way outside, eager for some fresh air. 

Ryuu follows you out, quietly matching your casual pace as you wander towards where the car is parked, your bare arms prickling in the cool night air. You look his way, smiling, before bumping your shoulder against him, feeling unusually content. “Thank you for inviting me.”

He bumps you back, his hand brushing briefly against yours as he shrugs. “Thank you for accepting.”

Once you're all in the car you both take the opportunity to turn on your phones, leaving you sighing heavily as reality comes creeping back into your life one alert tone at a time. 

Unlike you, his eyes light up as his phone vibrates in his hand. 

“Someone's popular.” Saeko teases from the front seat, looking back at her brother as his thumbs fly across the screen, typing out a series of messages in quick succession.

He mumbles something about the name Noya but she's not listening, already back to fiddling with the radio. You, on the other hand, keep one eye on him, jealousy pulling at your edges as you think of the messages waiting on your phone from your ex, guilt eating at you as you hypocritically hope he doesn't have anyone like that in his life.

His thumbs still and you hold your breath. He looks around before meeting your eye, leaning across the space between you, his voice low. “Would.. would you ever call me senpai?”

Your eyebrows draw together as you stare at him, unsure what you're supposed to say. “But I'm older than you?”

His phone vibrates again and his eyes go wide. He clears his throat before leaning in closer again. “How do you feel about camping?”

Ok, you're officially lost. You narrow your eyes at him, “You got a lot of questions tonight, Ryuunosuke.”

He opens his mouth before snapping it shut again, clearly conflicted. Saeko chuckles from the front seat and you watch as heat bursts across his cheeks and he shoves her seat, annoyed. She reaches back behind her and pinches the side of his knee, making him yelp, before cackling and turning the volume up on the music to drown out his complaints. 

You watch it all play out with an unexpected fondness. You look down at your own phone, the messages from your ex still sitting there unopened, and make a decision. 

You lean towards Ryuu, your head against his shoulder, your voice for his ears only. “Hey,” You say, softly, “when we get back I'm going to be busy for a little while.” He frowns down at you and you steel your resolve, you know what has to be done. “Wait for me, ok?” 

He looks confused, but he nods. You smile and close your eyes, making the most of the closeness while you can.

A month later and the day has finally come. 

You finish your evening shift before stepping out of the Eatery, greeted by the sight of a familiar figure, leaning against his car across the street, waiting for you to appear.

“Took you long enough.”

You sigh, it really did.

You smile up at your ex, giving a lazy shrug before you chuck him your keys. You don't need them anymore.

He catches them easily, giving them a long look before dropping them into his pocket. He sighs, “So this is really it, huh?”

He gives you a sad smile before holding his arms out to hug you. You feel a rush of emotion as you step into them, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him close. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, your voice wavering a little.

He rubs your back soothingly for a second before you look up at him, smiling, your eyes misty. It's what you want, but it's still the end of a huge part of you life, it's a heavy feeling. 

He smiles down at you gently, wrinkling his nose as he brings his hands up to cup your face, roughly wiping away your tears. “Ah stop it, already. You always were too sentimental.”

You laugh, your fingers wrapping around his wrist and squeezing affectionately. “Shut up.”

He smiles, sadly, before giving a dramatic sigh, his tone aiming for dismissive but not quite managing it. “Well, I better go, let you get on home to lover boy or whatever you're doing now.”

You nod, sniffing a little. “Good luck in your new place.”

He leans down to kiss you on the cheek, letting out a quiet sigh. “You too.”

You nod again as he pulls away and your eyes unexpectedly fall onto Ryuu, standing across the street. 

You feel your heart pull, a smile taking over your face at his surprise appearance. When he doesn't return it, it fades from your lips, confusion taking over. 

You jump as the car beeps and pulls away, you give it a distracted wave before turning back to the man you wanted to see. You call out to him, “Ryuunosuke?” 

He hesitates before approaching, his expression guarded, his voice stiff. “Was that the ex?”

Your mouth falls open, you'd planned on telling him everything tonight, but you weren't prepared for him to already know.

“It was.” You search his face, trying to gage his feelings. “He came for my keys.”

He nods thoughtfully as he stares after the car, his voice tentative. “So, lover boy would be?”

You feel a smile tug at your lips. “You.”

He shifts his feet, scuffing the sole of his shoe across the floor before meeting your eye. “He knows about me?”

“He does.” You say, easily. You'd told him everything the night you'd gotten back from the city, your choice obvious.

“But you never told me about him.” There's a touch of accusation in his tone, but not as much as you would've expected. You wonder how much Saeko had told him and when. “Why not?”

You shrug, you'd been thinking about that a lot yourself. “It didn't matter, until it did.” 

He frowns at you and you want to laugh, you've missed him a lot this last month. You try to clarify.

“Saeko was the first friend I made that was just mine, unconnected to my relationship.” You say, a little sadly. “Your apartment became my safe space, somewhere to hide while everything else went to shit, so it didn't matter there.”

You meet his eye, smiling ruefully. “And then you appeared and changed everything.” 

His eyes widen and he stills, staring at you.

You step towards him, smiling gently. “I owe you a thank you, actually. I was pretty lost before I met you, if things had been different, I don't know what would have happened.”

The blush that creeps along his cheeks draws you to him, you don't think you'll ever get bored of it. You step into his space, smiling, as you drape one arm around his neck, and then the other, looking up at him. “Because, I don't know if you know this, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, but, I'm kind of sweet on you.”

He audibly swallows before his hands come to your waist, his hold on you firm and comforting as he pulls you to him. You feel a ripple of excitement roll through you as your bodies touch, you hadn't been alone with him like this since that night, not trusting yourself to be able to refuse him while things were so complicated.

But now, things feel very, very simple.

“Come home with me.” His words are breathy and wanting. 

You smile up at him, laughing. “Didn't Saeko tell you? I'm staying on your sofa until I get the keys to my new place next week.”

“She told me.” He says, simply, staring at your lips. “But I'm asking you to come home with me.” The way he stresses 'with me' sends a shiver up your spine.

You smile, teasing. “So, no sofa?”

“No sofa.” He confirms.

You grin up at him, tightening your grip on him and pulling him down to you. You kiss him like the world is ending, his hands creepy under the hem of your shirt as he crushes you to him. You want him.

He pulls away from you, panting, when he hears a door slam across the street. He meets your eye again before grabbing your wrist, practically dragging you towards home as you laugh at his eagerness.

When you get back to their apartment, you notice Saeko isn't around. After Ryuu had showed up at your workplace at such a convenient time, you can't help but wonder if it's intentional on her part.

Ryuu doesn't leave a lot of time for you to dwell on it, pulling you towards his bedroom without any delay.

Once you're in there, you're surprised how different it looks since the last time you were here, it's significantly tidier, and all of the posters are gone. You huff a laugh, pointing at the walls, “I hope you didn't feel like you had to do that for my benefit.” you tease.

He shrugs, not as embarrassed as you'd expected him to be. “You think you're the only one who felt like they needed to get their shit together?”

You blink at him. Now that he mentions it, he feels kind of different. Less nervous, more sure. You can't say you dislike it.

He takes a step towards you, his cheeks warm as he reaches for your hands. “While we're being honest, you know I've never...” He falters.

“Had sex?” You guess.

His face turns an aggressive shade of red as he fights off a stammer. “H-how did you..?”

“I guessed.” You say gently, shrugging one shoulder. “I think you almost told me once before.” You think back on that night in Tokyo, how nervous he'd been to touch you. 

“You know,” You keep your voice gentle, “we don't have to if you're not ready-”

“I'm ready.” 

He cuts you off so sharply you can't help but laugh. You give him a smirk, your tone teasing. “Have I been on your mind that much this month?”

You think he's going to get embarrassed and deny everything. He doesn't.

“Longer.” He says, confidently.

He pulls your arms around his waist, pulling you into a hug before he speaks. “You said earlier that I appeared and changed everything?” You nod against his chest, you did. “You did the same for me.”

You pull away and look up at him, he smiles at you, almost bashfully. “I actually thought I'd made you up, for just a little while.”

You laugh, “What does that mean?”

“You just kept appearing!” He says defensively. He pulls away to count on his fingers as he lists he reasons.

“The first time, you appeared in an alley, threatened me and then vanished. The second time you appeared literally on your knees at my feet and told me I was cool!” His voice pitches up and you can't help but laugh at his distress, you hadn't really considered how he'd seen these things before.

“I go on holiday, come back, you appear, call my by my best friend's name and then literally vanish into thin air when I turn back around.” He points past you, out into the living area. “So I come home, take a nap and wake up to find you smoking on my sofa like you live here!” 

He shrugs dramatically, looking very much like his sister in that moment. “I thought I was losing my mind.”

“Sorry.” You laugh, warmly. “I knew I was making a bad impression, I think I kept trying to redo it.”

He smiles at you, shrugging. “I'm just saying, it's kind of hard to keep a girl like that out of your thoughts, you know?”

Your chest tightens. When did he become so smooth with his words?

“Do you have condoms?” The question is out before you know you're going to ask it, both of you startling once you've said it.

He swallows, then nods. You smile at him and he takes the hint, closing his bedroom door before coming back to you, that nervous energy radiating from him just like the first night.

You pinch the front of his shirt, pulling him to you gently as you turn your face up towards him. He leans in, kissing you slowly, as his chest vibrates under your touch.

His arms wrap around your waist, his fingers brushing bare skin as he pulls you tighter. Your hand finds its way to the side of his neck, your nails scraping lightly across his skin as his tongue finds yours.

He hums a pleased sound into your mouth and your skin tingles. You pull away, lifting the bottom of his shirt, wanting access to more of him. He obliges, pulling it over his head with one arm and throwing it behind him.

He looks good.

Your eyes run over him, taking him in greedily. You put your hands on his stomach and smile as his muscles twitch under the contact. You wonder if he does that on purpose.

You run them up across his chest before placing a kiss to the hollow of his throat. He shivers, his hands loosely clinging to your waist as you kiss along his collar bone, letting a hand wander down his chest, smiling against his skin when you brush against his nipple and he has to swallow down the needy sound that escapes his throat.

You feel a gentle pull at your shirt and look up at him, his cheeks are flushed, his eyes unfocused, the want in them obvious. You nod and lift your arms, letting him pull it off of you.

He takes a sharp inhale and you feel yourself warm. You're not usually the shy type, but the way he looks at you is hard to ignore. 

He brings his hands back to your waist, his thumbs brushing along your skin before he pulls you against him, his lips finding yours again, crushing against them as his excitement ramps up.

He presses a hand to the small of your back and steps towards you, guiding you backwards until your legs hit his bed. You huff a laugh as you sit down abruptly, leaving you looking up at him, the view familiar. You smile, teasing. “I've been here before.”

“I remember.” His voice is all breath and lust and you wonder if he's thought about this before.

You run your tongue across your lips, considering, before bringing your hands to his waistband, your fingers making easy work of the button before you meet his eye while slowly undoing his zip.

He watches you, breathing heavily, his body alarmingly still, as you let his jeans drop to the floor. You lean forward pressing your lips to his hip, your tongue trailing along a prominent vein, the one that disappears under his boxers. He's so fit.

You slip your fingertips into his waistband, pulling it lower, before he catches your hand in his, stopping you. You blink up at him as he swallows, nervously. “What.. what if I don't last?”

You shrug, smiling. “Practice makes perfect.”

His grip on you tightens for a second before he pulls your hand away. His voice rough, “I want you first.”

He leans down, his lips finding yours as he uses his weight to push you back onto the bed. Your heartbeat drums in your chest at his sudden intensity, you hadn't expected it, but now that he's on top of you, you couldn't agree more.

Your fingers claw at his back as he grinds against you, his tongue eager and forceful in your mouth as one hand finds its way to your chest, hesitating only for a second before he cups your breast, grunting as he finds your nipple hard under his touch.

He pulls away from your mouth, his lips trailing along your throat and onto your chest, his fingers pulling your bra strap from your shoulder as he kisses along the line of the cup, before pulling it down, exposing your nipple to his attention, his hips pressing against yours as he draws it into his mouth, your back arching as you moan loudly.

He lifts his body from yours as he licks and sucks at you, his hand on your trousers as he clumsily tries to undo them. Your impatience gets the better of you, you press a kiss to his forehead before doing it for him, lifting your hips enough so he can drag the offending item off you, pulling away just long enough for you to undo your bra and shift further onto the bed.

He pauses for a second, his eyes running over you, practically naked and waiting for him on his bed. He seems to come back to himself for a second, the blush spreading down his neck and onto his chest. “Are we really going to?”

You smile up at him, fondly. “As long as you want to?”

His voice is barely more than a breath. “I want to.”

He steps towards his bedside table, pulling out a pack of condoms. He fiddles with the packet for a second and you notice that his hands are shaking. 

You sit up and hold your hand out, “Let me.” You say, gently. 

He considers for a second before nodding. He hands you the packet and you put it between your teeth, smiling up at him reassuringly, as you put your fingers into his waistband and pull them down, keeping your eyes on his as you bare him to the world.

You tear the packet easily, dropping it to the ground once you've got what you need. You make sure it's the right way around before pressing it to his head, enjoying the way his body shudders as you unroll it down his length and he watches your every move.

When you're done you lie back onto the bed, slipping off your underwear, before holding out a hand for him. He takes a steadying breath before wrapping his fingers around yours and laying beside you.

He presses his face close to yours and lets out a shaky exhale before kissing you. All sweetness and nerves until he finds his rhythm again, the want winning out over any fears he might have. 

It's his choice when he shifts his weight onto his elbow, pressing his body against you as his legs slip between yours. You run your hands down his neck, and along his back as his kiss intensifies, moaning softly as your back arches, pressing your bare chest against his, only wanting him closer.

His kiss falters slightly as his hand runs down the outside of your thigh, his fingers slipping behind your knee as he pulls it higher, his erection presses flush against your sex and you moan against his lips. 

You can take a hint.

You slip your hand between your bodies, taking him in hand as you lift your hips, guiding him against your entrance. He presses against you ever so slightly and pulls away from your lips, a strangled noise escaping him as the tip of his cock presses into you.

He takes a second to catch his breath, his body still, his arms unnaturally stiff as he holds himself over you. You try to be understanding, but it's too much of a tease to have him so close yet so far.

You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you, before running your hands down his throat and along his chest, following the line of his waist before settling them on his hips, digging your fingers into him as you pull him, gently, towards you. 

Your voice shakes with lust as he presses further into you before stopping again. “Please.”

He blinks down at you before all the tension seems to melt out of him. He presses his chest against yours, watching your face as he sheaths himself entirely in you. You gasp as he stretches you, the fullness of him intoxicating. 

You hold his gaze, staring up at him as he starts to thrust, moaning shamelessly every time he fills you. 

He audibly swallows, mouth open, breathing heavily, his voice pulled tight in his throat. “I'm not going to last if you keep looking at me like that.”

You moan again, before giving him a lazy smirk, your eyes unwavering. “Like what?”

His pace stutters and makes a sound alarmingly close to a growl. He scowls down at you and you feel your affection for him erupt. You bring a hand to the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours as you wrap your leg around his waist, arching your back as you pull him into you.

His moans deepen as he follows his instincts, wrapping an arm under the small of your back, meeting your pace as you roll your hips to meet him, the friction from his closeness overwhelming. Your nails bite into his neck as he grinds into you in just the right spot, “Ryuunosuke, there.”

His breathing hiccups as his hips buck, pushing you over the edge as pleasure rolls through you, your muscles contracting around him, as your chest heaves and you moan against his open mouth. He pulls you tight against him, his moans dragging themselves of him as he pushes into you as deep as he can as he cums.

His arm shakes precariously before it gives out and he collapses on top of you, panting into your hair as you stroke his back, revelling in the intimacy as he comes down from his high.

You keep your voice low, your tone warm. “Was it good for you?”

He laughs against your shoulder, pushing himself up so he can meet your eye, the smile on his face dazzling. “I wanna go again.”

You grin at him, your adorable idiot. “I'm here when you're ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, the comments and understanding you've shown me lately are just so fucking heartwarming.
> 
> Ya'll are too nice to me, I don't deserve it.


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